


Elaborate Lives

by OliveBranched



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Bang, Big Bang Challenge, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB, DCBB 2014, DeanCas - Freeform, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliveBranched/pseuds/OliveBranched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After bumping into an eerily familiar stranger at the new Ancient Egypt exhibit in Lawrence, Dean is whisked away into his memories of another life on the shores of the Nile. Dean, a member of the Nubian nobility, is taken captive by Castiel, the captain of the Pharaoh's army, who takes him back to Egypt as a gift for the Pharaoh’s daughter, Anael. Despite years of prejudice on both sides and their clashing personalities, Dean finds himself falling for the Egyptian captain. AIDA!au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 DeanCas Big Bang with artwork done by the spectacular Mycolour! This is my first year participating in the challenge, and I'm really glad with how everything turned out. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

 

 

The Watkins Museum of History was abuzz with excitement as the staff unveiled the new Ancient Egypt exhibit, featuring recently unearthed artifacts and mummies from the Ptolemaic dynasty. Archaeologists estimated the new exhibits dated between 300-270 BC: during Egypt’s war against Nubia.

A young man in his late-twenties made his way through the throng towards the statue of the Pharaoh Anael. Her gold dress shimmered in the lights, her painted blue eyes stoic and unyielding. The man stopped and examined the statue for a few minutes, his eyes tracing over her figure with rapt attention. At the brush of the crowd around him, the man turned away from the statue and moved on. The next exhibit was a Nubian slave camp depicting two men in chains, one with an Egyptian soldier’s blade at his throat. The young man didn’t linger long on that exhibit. He shuddered and hurried away after only a few moments.

The centerpiece of the exhibit was a large stone tomb that was found buried under a mile of sand and earth. The plaque described the piece as a tomb Egyptians used to execute traitors. They would place the criminal inside and bury them alive in the middle of the desert. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the piece caught the man’s eye. He made his way towards the tomb, feet dragging along the tile as though he were sleepwalking.

He was a foot away from the tomb when he collided with someone, sending him stumbling backwards onto his ass. He looked up, ready to yell at whoever had bumped into him, and found himself staring at the most handsome man he had ever seen. The man’s eyes were a deep blue, and his dark hair stuck up in all directions like he spent all day running his hands through it.

“I’m so sorry,” the man said, and _oh_ , his voice was deep and raspy like a smoker’s. “I didn’t see you there.” He extended his hand and the young man took it, using it to get himself to his feet while he kept his eyes locked on the blue eyed man’s face.

“It’s all right, really.” The young man replied without thinking. There was something almost…familiar about the blue eyed man. “Have we met somewhere before?” The blue eyed man frowned in confusion. “I’m sorry, it’s just… never mind, I’m sure it’s nothing.” The young man flashed a warm smile at the blue eyed man and started to walk away, stopping when he felt a tug on his hand. He looked back at their hands and realized that neither of them had let go. “Whoops.” He said under his breath as he eased his hand out of the other man’s grip. “I should probably get going.” He turned and started to make his way to the exit, just missing the blue eyed man’s murmured “Yeah…” as he left.

For the rest of the day, the young man couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity and of _rightness_ he had felt around the man in the museum. When he fell asleep that night, he took with him the memory of dark hair and crystal blue eyes.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You took us from Nubia,” The man spoke and Castiel was again caught off guard at the man’s voice, deep and smooth. “And now you’re saying we belong to you?” Castiel looked the man over for a few moments before responding.
> 
> “Yes.”
> 
> “Well, I’ve taken this soldier out of your ranks, so, by that logic, he belongs to me.” The man’s grin turned determined. “Now let them go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based off of the Elton John/Tim Rice Musical AIDA, which I just did a production of this past spring. It was so incredible and inspiring, and I couldn't have asked for a better basis for my first Big Bang challenge. None of this would have been possible without the help of my wonderful friends, both online and irl, Hemmingway, Kripke, and of course, Elton and Tim. Go check out my fabulous artist's tumblr at mycolour.tumblr.com

Castiel stood at the prow of the slave barge, eyes closed as he savored the feeling of the wind on his face as he sailed down the Nile. These rare moments of peace were the only thing he had to look forward to. The war against Nubia seemed fruitless and an inevitable loss for Egypt. As long as the Nubian King remained alive, his people would continue to fight. Castiel had gotten tired of watching his men fight losing battles against a warrior nation.

“Captain?” A not all-together unwelcome voice interrupted his thoughts. He sighed and turned to face his lieutenant, raising an eyebrow at him in question. “We’re almost to the Second Cataract. The Nubian settlement isn’t far from there. The crew is preparing for battle.”

“Thank you, Balthazar. I will join them in a moment.” Balthazar nodded his head and made to head to the lower deck, but turned back.

“Captain, why have we come all this way? If we stray too far into Nubia their King will slaughter us. We aren’t even close to having enough men on this barge to withstand the full force of the Nubian army.” Castiel threw back his head and laughed before raising an eyebrow at Balthazar.

“You know what they say, Lieutenant; fortune favors the brave.” Balthazar shot him a skeptical look, rolled his eyes when Castiel smirked at him, and rejoined the ranks on the lower deck. Castiel took another few seconds to enjoy the view along the riverbank and the smell of salt water while he had the chance. He had started for the stairs to the lower deck to take his place amongst his soldiers when he noticed movement in the distance.

Castiel recognized the scouting party he had sent ahead to keep a lookout for Nubian soldiers within seconds. The small party of men was returning earlier than Castiel has expected, and he soon saw the reason why. The men had taken captive a group of four or five members of the Nubian nobility. Castiel hurried down the steps to the deck below and pushed his way through the soldiers to the helmsman.

“Stop the barge!” He ordered, startling the pilot out of his unfocused stupor. “The scouting party has returned with captives. We’ll need to be ready to receive them.” The pilot nodded his assent and shouted commands to the crew, who rushed about to prepare for the scouting party’s arrival. Within minutes, the barge had stopped and the gangway dug into the sand on the Nile’s shore.

The group of soldiers forced the captives up in front of them, shoving them to their knees one by one before Castiel. The last captive refused to kneel when the soldier shoved him, instead turning to attack the man. Castiel caught the man’s arm, spun the man around to face him, and stopped dead in his tracks. The man was beautiful, his angular features dotted with freckles and green eyes sparking with rage.

“What do we have here?” He asked without taking his eyes off the man.

“We found them along the riverbank, Captain.” One of the scouts answered. The man shot a vicious glare at the guard, the sparks igniting into a wildfire. Castiel forced himself to keep a neutral expression as he addressed the man.

“Your country is at war, and you go wandering along the Nile’s edge? You must have a burning desire to see Egypt.” The man spat in Castiel’s face, snarling at him in the harsh, guttural language of the Nubians. Castiel wiped his face, then leveled an empty smile at the man, his eyes cold and harsh. “Tie the others up, but put this one in chains.” He ordered Balthazar. He motioned for his men to restrain the other Nubians, while Balthazar dealt with the green eyed man himself. Castiel ignored them and moved to his cartographer.

“Have you completed the map, Samandriel?” The man nodded and held out the map for Castiel to inspect. “Excellent work, but this section isn’t quite right. From the mast it looked like it curved more towards the North than to the West. Here, let me show you.” Castiel leaned down to make the corrections to the map, but stopped at the commotion behind him.

“My sword!” Balthazar cried out. “Someone get this man off—“ He cut off with a strangled gasp. Castiel turned to see the green eyed man had his shackles around Balthazar’s neck. He brandished the stolen sword and pointed it at his lieutenant’s throat.

“Release my people!” The man commanded, now speaking accented Demotic.

“Let him go.” Castiel growled. The green eyed man smirked and pressed the blade harder into Balthazar’s neck. “Now!” He commanded. The man laughed, and shook his head.

“You took us from Nubia,” The man spoke and Castiel was again caught off guard at the man’s voice, deep and smooth. “And now you’re saying we belong to you?” Castiel looked the man over for a few moments before responding.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ve taken this soldier out of your ranks, so, by that logic, _he_ belongs to _me_.” The man’s grin turned determined. “Now let them go!” Castiel smirked and gestured to his men, who immediately drew their swords and held them at the throats of the other captives.

The man held Castiel’s gaze, blade held steady, but Castiel could see that his eyes were frantic. After a few moments, he looked over at the other captives and defeat entered his eyes. He slowly lowered the blade, released Balthazar from his choke hold, and held up his hands in surrender. Two soldiers grabbed him, took the sword out of his limp hands, and forced him to his knees.

“Throw him in the river!” Balthazar panted. Two soldiers grabbed the man’s arms and dragged him to the edge of the barge.

“No!” The soldiers stopped and turned to look at Castiel over their shoulders. “I have a better plan for him.” The two soldiers shared a knowing glance and threw him at Castiel’s feet. The man rose, but before he could make a move, Castiel grabbed his chains and dragged him to his quarters below deck.

He threw the man on the ground beside his pallet and bolted the door behind him. The man raised up on his knees to glower at Castiel but didn’t dare to stand. Castiel chuckled to himself as he knelt in front of the man and reached for his wrists. The man jerked away and folded in on himself.

“ _Don’t_.” He snarled. Castiel held up his hands in surrender.

“All right. I guess I won’t remove your shackles then.” He heaved a sigh and turned to leave but a hand on his ankle stopped him. He turned around to see the man with his hand resting on Castiel’s ankle, eyes cautious. Castiel raised an eyebrow at him and after a few moments, the man lowered his eyes.

“Please.” The man whispered and Castiel smirked, but slid to his knees in front of the man, unlocked the shackles and slid them off of his wrists.

“These will only get in the way.” He tossed them to the other side of the cabin, ignoring the man’s incensed glare. “That was impressive, out there. Maybe I should enlist you in my army. I could use a new lieutenant.” He spoke to the man, his cadence smooth and nonchalant, as he moved around the room, grabbing a stool and small wooden basin.

“Are you mocking me, Captain?” Castiel rolled his eyes at the venom in the man’s tone.

“No, not at all. I’m _admiring_ you.” He let his eyes roam over the man’s body. Castiel was being honest. The man was gorgeous, a bit taller than Castiel, but where Castiel was lean, this man was all muscle. He looked like the gods had carved him from stone and breathed life into him. The man grew uncomfortable under Castiel’s scrutiny and turned away. Castiel noticed a flush spread from his cheeks down to his collarbones.

“Do you know what’s going to happen now?” Castiel asked as he set the stool down beside the man. The man turned to meet his gaze, eyes filled with indignant rage, but soon quieted down into fearful submission. Castiel chuckled and slid his tunic off of his shoulders. He reveled in how the man’s eyes widened in shock. He knelt down so that he and the man were face to face, leaned close and whispered in the man’s ear. “You’re going to wash the filth of battle from my skin.”

He felt the man shudder at the closeness of Castiel and the rasp of his voice. He broke them both out of the moment when he plopped the basin down in front the man. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt clean.” He moved to sit on the stool and stretched his arms out for him to wash.

The man hesitated, then took the sponge from the basin, wrung out the excess water and scrubbed at Castiel’s arms. Castiel ignored the rough bite of the sponge until it reached the back of his neck. He grabbed the man’s wrist and stopped him mid-scrub. “You’re far more skilled with a sword than you are with a sponge.” He growled.

“I wish I had a sword now.” The man retorted.

“Mine’s just behind you.” Castiel offered, tilting his head towards the weapon. “Help yourself.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as the man glanced over at the sword, took a step towards it, and then decided against it. Instead, he knelt behind Castiel and began to wash his back, this time with a much gentler hand. “Who taught you how to use a sword?” Castiel asked, curiosity piqued.

“My father.” The man answered, voice softer.

“Because he knows that your nobles can’t protect themselves against an attacker?” The man snarled in fury as he shot to his feet and made his way to the door. Castiel grabbed his wrist. “You’re not finished.” His voice was quiet, but held the threat of violence.

“Oh, I think I am.” The man hissed. Castiel hauled the man against his chest, his wrists held firm in Castiel’s grasp.

“You enjoy living dangerously, don’t you?” He rumbled, their faces mere inches apart. The man pulled back as far as Castiel would allow.

“About as much as I enjoy washing your filthy, Egyptian skin!” The man shouted, tore his wrist free and hurled the sponge at Castiel. The smack made when it hit his face echoed through the tiny room. Castiel stood frozen in shock, the sponge forgotten at his feet. Temper lost, Castiel advanced on the man.

“You disgusting, foul-mouthed, barbaric—“The man stopped him.

“No! You don’t know a single thing about me, and you care even less. You could never even begin to understand my people’s pain and suffering. You send your soldiers into our country to take our wealth, our knowledge, but what you really want from us is our _spirit_. Our courage and strength. But that’s something you’ll never take from us.” The man stopped. He stared at Castiel, and the fire in his eyes cooled to smoldering embers.

“I can’t change the past. It’s something I have no control over. You have invaded us in every way possible, foreign people, foreign language, foreign customs. You have taken our land, our children, and our pride. What more could you possibly want?”

Castiel stood, enraptured by this strange creature. This man was like no other Nubian he had encountered, noble or otherwise. He wasn’t at all like the savage foreigners described to him by his father and the soldiers. This man was gentle and refined. He had a strong heart and a willful spirit, and was brave enough to risk his own life to save the lives of his people. He was _fascinating_ , and Castiel had to learn more about him.

“What’s your name?” He forced the words out of his mouth. The man started.

“Dean.” He whispered, confusion evident in his voice. Castiel opened his mouth to say more, but a knock at the door prevented him.

“Captain,” Balthazar called. “We’re preparing to dock.”

“Thank you, Balthazar.” He called back and moved to the where the shackles lay on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked as fear began to creep into his voice. Castiel’s only reply was to take hold of Dean’s wrists. “No, please! Please leave them off.” He begged.

“You’re a slave now.” Castiel explained, face neutral even as the shackles clicked shut. “If you want to stay alive, then you’d better remember that.” He didn’t realize he had Dean’s face cupped in his hand until he saw Dean’s eyes widen. Castiel yanked his hand away, his neutral mask now a fierce scowl, stomped over to the door, slammed it behind him and left Dean alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't listened to the soundtrack, I encourage you to look it up on YouTube. You'll find that a lot of the scenes are taken straight out of the songs, and it just might give you another perspective on the story. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_XHTzc6lag&list=PLfY55f_epnJeza02Ik_JLAcNArDtR5gjz


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here you are, Son! At last, you’ve come back home.” Michael shot Sam a derisive look. “Stand aside, boy. And avert your eyes! Need I remind you that you are in the presence of the Captain of Pharaoh’s armies?”
> 
> “Yes, oh Chief Minister,” Sam intoned, bowing low as he moved out of the way. “Forgive me, oh wise and powerful Chief Minister. Beloved by the gods, the people, and himself…” He mumbled the last few words and scurried behind Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Michael I pictured while writing this is the one played by Matt Cohen. You as the reader are, of course, free to imagine him however you like, but in case you were wondering, there it is. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Sam peered around the edge of the doorway, made sure the guards had passed, then entered the main hallway. This wasn’t the first time he had done this, but it still made his heart race as fast as it had the first time.

“Sam!” He turned towards the source of the voice.

“Kevin, thank the gods. I was starting to think you wouldn’t come.” He whispered. Kevin gave him an incredulous look.

“When have I ever not come, Sam?” He noticed the large barrel at Sam’s feet. “Is that the wine?”

“It is. Do you have the gold?” Kevin nodded and handed him a woven pouch. Sam pulled the drawstrings open and saw the glint of gold coins in the dim light. He closed the pouch, tied it onto his belt, and extended his hand to Kevin. They shook hands and Sam helped Kevin heft the barrel of wine onto his back before he scurried off.

“Samuel!” Castiel’s voice rang through the hall, at which Sam startled into motion. He met Castiel halfway and knelt in front of the captain.

“Master,” Sam greeted. “I’m so glad you’re back.” He chanced looking up to give Castiel a genuine smile.

“Come now, Samuel, there’s no need for formality.” Castiel chuckled and motioned for Sam to rise to his feet. “Did you keep my house in order while I was away?”

“Of course, Master!” He hesitated, then took a deep breath before he continued. “Well, all except for a cask of wine, which has…mysteriously gone missing.”

“Again?” Castiel asked, a smile in his voice. “Samuel, if you’re going to invite women into my home while I’m away, the least you could do is let me know beforehand.” Sam’s face flushed, and he tried to stammer out an answer. Michael, Castiel’s father, burst through the doorway at the end of the hall and strode towards them.

“Here you are, Son! At last, you’ve come back home.” Michael shot Sam a derisive look. “Stand aside, boy. And avert your eyes! Need I remind you that you are in the presence of the Captain of Pharaoh’s armies?”

“Yes, oh Chief Minister,” Sam intoned, bowing low as he moved out of the way. “Forgive me, oh wise and powerful Chief Minister. Beloved by the gods, the people, and himself…” He mumbled the last few words and scurried behind Castiel.

“You’d better watch your mouth, boy, or I’ll have you—“

“It’s good to see you again, Father.” Castiel stepped forward, putting himself between Michael and his servant. He cast a scolding glance at Sam, who bowed his head.

“You were gone for so long, Castiel. I was beginning to worry that you’d been injured in battle.” Michael ran his hands up and down Castiel’s arms.

“I’m fine, Father.” Castiel shrugged off Michael’s hands.

“That’s good. I kept reassuring the Princess that no soldier could ever hope to best you with a sword.” Michael joked.

“You were right. No _soldier_ got the better of me. Though, a certain nobleman might have…” Michael threw his head back and laughed.

“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrows, amusement clear on his face.

“Listen,” Castiel rushed, eager to change the subject. “Past the Fifth Cataract the Nile heads straight for Khartoum.”

“This means we can attack the city by water, excellent! Did you record the landscape?” The pleasant attitude was gone, replaced with Michael’s typical businesslike demeanor.

“Yes, Father. With the routes we found an illiterate foot soldier could find his way through Nubia with ease.” An angry noise sounded behind him. Castiel turned to see Dean standing in the middle of the group of Nubians they had taken captive earlier. He was shaking with barely restrained fury.

“And you brought home captives! Wonderful.” Michael exclaimed. He walked over to the line of shackled Nubians and examined them one by one. When he reached Dean, he yanked his head to one side and Dean jerked out of his grasp. In response, Michael struck him hard in the face.

“Take them all to the copper mines.” Michael fixed Dean with an ice cold stare that morphed into a vicious leer. “We can’t seem to keep them alive down there.” Castiel saw the fear that entered Dean’s eyes before he tilted his head down. He kept his eyes fixed on his feet as the guards shoved the Nubians towards the doorway.

“Wait!” Castiel called out. He walked over to Dean and pulled him away from the rest of the captives. “Not this one. I’m going to need a gift for the Princess.” Dean stared up at him in grateful shock, but his eyes continued to return to the other captives. Castiel sighed and looked at the guard. “Take the rest of them to the palace groundskeeper. He could use some help with the harvest.” The guard nodded and steered the slaves away. Castiel looked back at his father in apology. “They’re all nobles. They wouldn’t last a single day underground.”

“They’re your slaves, Castiel. You can do whatever you want with them.” Michael told him, but the look in his eyes told Castiel that his words weren’t as true as Michael would have him believe.

“Thank you.” Dean breathed, face open and grateful. Castiel pulled Dean aside and produced the key to his shackles.

“Give me your hands, Dean.” A soft noise of surprise sounded behind them.

“Your name is Dean?” Sam piped up, voice full of shock and no small amount of wonder.

“Samuel!” Castiel hissed and leveled a deadly glare at the boy, who hurried to bow his head.

“I’m going to remove these,” Castiel brushed his hands over the shackles. “But know this: if you ever try to escape, I’ll come after you myself.” He drew himself up to his full height, so he looked his most intimidating. Dean only laughed.

“How sweet of you, _Captain._ You don’t strike me as the type that would chase after a slave.” He baited, lips twisted up into a smug smile.

“I’m not. But I’ll make an exception for you.” Dean’s smile slipped into an irritated frown. Castiel unlocked the shackles and handed them to Sam. He didn’t miss the way Dean rubbed at where they had bruised his wrists. “Samuel, take Dean to Princess Anael with my compliments.”

“Yes, Master.” Sam bowed low, beckoned for Dean to follow him, and the two men left through the doorway that lead to the Princess’s chambers. With them gone, Castiel turned his attention back to his father.

“You’ve been gone for over six months, Castiel. Don’t you think that a personal appearance is in order?”

“I will, but first I need to find the best way to tell her that as soon as my crew has rested, I’m setting out again.” Michael narrowed his eyes.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Castiel. Egypt needs you here. Pharaoh isn’t the powerful leader he was before you left.” Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. “While you’ve been away _cavorting_ , things here have gotten worse. I need you here to support our people. Pharaoh has been…withdrawn as of late. The people are concerned for his well-being, and they need something to lift their spirits. A wedding would be the perfect distraction from Pharaoh’s plight, don’t you think?” Michael looked around the hallway to make sure that they were alone, then leaned in close and continued in hushed tones.

“I have spoken with Horus. He has told me that the Pharaoh will not be with us for much longer.” Castiel’s eyes widened.

“You mean that the Pharaoh has fallen ill? Is it fatal?” Michael nodded, expression grave and foreboding. “I must go to him immediately.”

“Yes, I think that’s wise. It will be comforting for him to know you have returned safely.” Castiel turned to leave, but Michael stopped him. “Can I expect to see you at the banquet tonight, Castiel?”

“Of course, Father.” Castiel bowed, stiff and formal, and left. As soon as Michael was certain that Castiel was out of earshot, he whistled. A pale, stocky man emerged from the shadows.

“Yes, my lord?”

“It has come to my attention that someone is telling the Pharaoh about our private meetings. I suspect that Uriel is behind it. Make sure that he doesn’t live to see another sunrise.” The man bowed low, and began to melt back into the shadows. “Zachariah?” The man stopped. “Have you extracted more arsenic?”

Zachariah produced a small vial of clear liquid and held it up to the light. “Yes, my lord.”

“Excellent. Who knew that the copper mines would yield such an abundant supply? Put some in Pharaoh’s wine at the banquet tonight, but only a few drops. We don’t want him to die…just yet.” The two men shared a laugh, and went their separate ways.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I was ten years old, Castiel saved my life.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. He found me in the courtyard, half-beaten to death by one of the palace guards. He took me in and made sure I got the best care until I recovered. Then he made me his personal servant, his right hand man, and he swore that no harm would come to me from then on. He’s kept his promise to me for the past fourteen years.” Dean’s skepticism had melted into shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard scene to write, as originally it was just two songs almost back to back with very little "scene" in between them. Adapting a musical is harder than it looks, kids. Thanks again for reading, and enjoy!

Sam picked at his fingernails as he sat on the floor of one of the palace’s anterooms while Dean changed on the other side of a screen. After a little while, Dean emerged from behind the screen, now clothed in the garb of Anael’s “handmaidens.”

The white linen Shendyt accentuated his skin, far darker than Sam’s own, tanned from years spent in the sun. The simple golden belt around his waist caught the green in his eyes and highlighted the flecks of gold within the irises. Dean cleared his throat, which startled Sam out of his study of the man in front of him.

“Well,” He started. “Now you look like all the other handmaidens.”

“I’m not a ‘maiden!’” Dean insisted as the beginnings of a blush rose on his cheeks.

“I know. Princess Anael insists on calling all her personal servants ‘handmaidens’, even the men.” Sam shrugged, unable to find anything to say that would make him feel less uncomfortable. Dean frowned and pulled at his Shendyt, already self-conscious. “Hey, at least the Captain saw that you’re special.”

“You could carve what that man _sees_ onto a grain of sand.” Dean spat.

“That may be true,” Sam replied, struggling to find the best response to Dean’s anger. “But he did save you and the rest of your people from the copper mines. They send people down there and they don’t come back.”

“That was surprising. “ Dean commented before he realized what he was saying. Sam made a small noise in the back of his throat. Dean look up at him to see the younger man looking at him with one eyebrow quirked up. Dean sputtered out a retort. “I guess what he did, was pretty…decent.” He conceded, trying to downplay how he felt about Castiel saving them. Sam’s sigh drew Dean’s attention away from his sandals and back to his face.

“When I was ten years old, Castiel saved my life.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. He found me in the courtyard, half-beaten to death by one of the palace guards. He took me in and made sure I got the best care until I recovered. Then he made me his personal servant, his right hand man, and he swore that no harm would come to me from then on. He’s kept his promise to me for the past fourteen years.” Dean’s skepticism had melted into shock.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking.” Dean raised an eyebrow in question. “You’re thinking that I’ve forgotten who I am, that I’ve become one of them. But I’m still Nubian, Dean. I’ll always be Nubian.” Dean stepped closer to Sam and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Of course. I never doubted that.” Sam laughed, but the sound was hollow and mirthless.

“You know, I still remember when they captured me.” Dean’s eyes went wide. “I was only five years old then. I remember waking up in the middle of the night from the commotion going on outside. I didn’t see my mother anywhere, so I went out of our hut to look for her. I found her in the center of the courtyard, on her knees with her hands chained behind her back. I tried to hide before anyone saw me, but before I could get back inside, somebody grabbed me. The last thing I remember seeing as they carried me out of our village was you.”

Dean’s gaze went from horrified sympathy to guarded in an instant. “You watched me get captured all those years ago. That explains how I knew your name, and why you look so familiar to me. I know you, Dean Winchester.” Dean’s frown deepened at the use of his last name. Sam pressed on.

“Before they took me, I had a pretty good life. My mother was the King’s advisor.” Sam laughed, and smacked himself on the forehead. “But you already know all that, seeing as how you’re the King’s son, and everything.” Dean’s hand clamped down over Sam’s mouth.

“Just because you know something’s true, doesn’t mean you should say it out loud. Just look at us, Sam! We’re slaves! Our lives aren’t our own anymore.” He turned to walk away, but Sam grabbed his wrist.

“I’ve never abandoned my hope of freedom! I don’t think you could have either, if you had been in my place.” Dean shook his head.

“My only hope now is silence. You can’t ever let anyone think you’ve ever seen me before today.” Sam gripped his wrist tighter and his eyes blazed with a righteous fury.

“You will always be my prince, Dean, no matter where we are.” Sam insisted, releasing Dean’s wrist so that he could place a light touch on his forehead, lips, and then his heart. He knelt before Dean and bowed his head. Dean yanked Sam to his feet, and checked to make sure no one had passed by and seen them.

“You can’t know me! From now on, you have to treat me like any other slave. If the Egyptians find out I’m the son of the Nubian King, then they’ll—“

“They’ll kill you.” Sam cut him off. “But our people can keep your secret safe, Dean!”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t tell _anyone_ who I am. Once we’re done here, I’m nothing but a gift from an Egyptian Captain to his Princess.” Dean said the last words as if they tasted sour in his mouth.

“Just so you know, Princess Anael is more than that to Castiel.” Dean gestured for him to go on. “They’re engaged.” Dean’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“He’s getting married?” Dean asked, shocked. “When?”

“The day his ship sinks and the royal builders refuse to build him another.” Sam could see the wheels turning in Dean’s head as he tried to decipher Sam’s meaning. “Never mind. Let’s get you to the Princess.

\---OoO---

Princess Anael’s sitting room was full of handmaidens of all sorts. Meg, a new acquisition of hers, knelt in front of Anael, holding a mirror up to her face. Rachel, one of Anael’s oldest and most experienced handmaidens, helped Anael with her kalasiris.

“It’s such hard work maintaining perfection.” Anael sighed. “But it’s worth all the effort, don’t you think ladies?” The handmaidens chorused their approval of Anael, praising her looks and style. Anael smiled. “Really? Well, then maybe one of you can tell me why Castiel hasn’t come to visit me since he returned from his expedition?” The women shrunk away from Anael. They all knew better than to argue with her when she got in these moods.

“The man is engaged to me, he is destined to be my one and only, and yet he neglects me!” Anael stood up and paced around the room, handmaidens scurried away from Anael’s wrath. “He’s been to visit my father, I’ve heard that he’s been to see _his_ father. In fact, I’d bet he’s gone to have long, intimate conversations with every withered old man in Egypt! But apparently, the thought of visiting a beautiful, _young_ princess leaves him cold.” Anael sank into a large cushion and leaned her face into her hand, anger exhausted.

“Princess Anael,” Sam strolled into the room and bowed low, Dean’s presence a silent shadow just behind him. “Castiel hasn’t forgotten about you. He knows that he’s going to see you at the feast tonight in all your…extravagant finery, and he can hardly contain his excitement. In the meantime, he sends you this gift.” Sam stepped to the side, and pushed Dean forward. Anael looked him over with a critical eye.

“Another handmaiden? I don’t need another handmaiden.” She sighed in annoyance. “Does this gift have a name?” She asked, voice full to the brim with impatience.

“His name is—“

“Dean.” The handmaidens gasped in shock. Dean looked around at them, confused.

“Did…did you just…speak?” Anael inquired, words clipped.

“My name is Dean, Princess, and I think you should know that—“

“How dare you!” Anael thundered. “You do not kneel before me, you do not lower your eyes, you do not tremble. Do you not know who I am?” Anael stopped, and surveyed him as he thrust his chin out in defiance. “Are you truly not afraid of me?” Her voice had lost some of its rage, replaced now with curiosity.

“Would you like it if I _were_ afraid of you?” Dean asked after a moment of thought. Anael was taken aback by the question.

“I suppose it wouldn’t, no.” She replied, anger now completely gone from her voice.

“Then I think I’m doing all right.” Dean stated, matter of fact.

“That’s true.” Anael’s lip quirked up in an almost smile. “You had started to say something about…?”

“Castiel.” Dean answered immediately, then realized what he said as a room full of disbelieving eyes landed on him.

“Oh? And what do you know about the _Captain_?” The ice had returned to Anael’s tone and Dean took a moment to choose his next words.

“Just that he’s all right. He wasn’t injured in battle while he was away. I had thought that maybe you’d want to know that…” Dean trailed off, eyes lowered.

“I did. He’s been gone for so long, and I’ve been just—“ Anael stopped when she realized that all eyes were on her. She schooled her face into a mask of calculated appraisal. “You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you Dean?”

“Only when I need to be.” He muttered under his breath. “My real gift is what I can do with a needle. If you’d let me, Princess, I can make you a robe in a color that’s closer to the shade of your eyes. My people have a special dyeing process that I use that will make fabric _glow._ It’s a secret passed down from generation to generation from the handmaidens of Queen Nefertiti.”

Dean chose these words with care in the hope that he could tempt Anael to keep him. A heartbeat stretched out into days as the whole room waited in tense silence for Anael to respond to Dean’s offer.

“A slave that knows his fabrics?” Anael mused. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I’m definitely keeping him! Castiel really, truly knows me. How thoughtful of him to bring you to me!” She leapt up from the cushion and clasped Dean’s face between her hands. “You will be a great asset to me when Castiel and I are finally married. Samuel!” She called, not taking her eyes off of Dean. “Go show Dean to the sewing room.”

“Yes, Princess.” He bowed low and motioned for Dean to follow him. They were at the entrance to the closet the slaves used for sewing when Anael stopped them.

“Oh, and Dean? You should know this about me before you start; Dress is, and has always been, my strongest suit. It’s everything to me. If I don’t look incredible, then there is no reason for me to show my face in public. If you don’t make sure that I live up to that standard? I will see that you endure a fate worse than the copper mines.” The smile on her face was sweet and demure, but her eyes were ice and fury and the threat of much more than death. Dean nodded, and gave a small bow before following Sam into the sewing room.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now you listen to me, Castiel. I’ve spent years working towards this day, and I’m not going to let you ruin it for yourself or for me. Welcome to your new life, son.” Michael let the words hang in the air as he stalked out of the banquet hall and left Castiel alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get interesting between Dean and Cas in this chapter! But they don't get together just yet. They will pretty soon, but a few things need to happen first. Thank you all so much, and enjoy!!

That night, the palace was booming with life and energy. The banquet held in celebration of Castiel’s expedition’s safe return was in full swing. The Pharaoh himself sat at the head of the main banquet table, with Anael to his left. Castiel was at her side, and Michael sat by the Pharaoh’s right hand. The Pharaoh was a frightening sight to behold in his illness. His dark ebony skin, once vibrant with life, had lost its luster and turned ashy and pale. His eyes had sunken deep into his head, framed by dark circles.

A servant passed by the table with goblets of wine and set them down in front of the guests. Michael watched as the man uncorked a small vial and tipped it into the Pharaoh’s goblet unobserved. He let only a few drops fall into the drink before he replaced the cork in the mouth of the vial and hid it in the palm of his hand. Zachariah set the goblet in front of the Pharaoh, bowed low, and retreated into the shadows.

Castiel spotted Sam lingering around the exotic dancers and made his way over to him. “Samuel!” Sam turned away from the dancers, face flushed in embarrassment. Castiel chuckled. “Was the Princess pleased with my gift?”

“Oh yes. Dean managed to make himself indispensable almost immediately.” Sam laughed at the memory.

“I’m not surprised.” Castiel thought for a moment. “Did Dean tell you anything about himself when you were escorting him to Anael?” Sam shot him a confused look. “It’s just that I’ve never met anyone like him before, and I can’t help but wonder—“

“Nope, nothing at all!” Sam interrupted. Castiel was startled by his hasty reply, but let it pass for the time being. Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but someone tapped at his shoulder. He turned around to see Anael smiling at him.

“Anna.” Castiel acknowledged, bowing low. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you, Castiel.” She nodded and her smile grew as he took her hand.

“Is this the latest fashion in Egypt?” He eyed her outfit.

“Well, it is now.” She joked. “So I take it your expedition was successful?”

“We got well past Aswan and into territories that no Egyptian has ever set foot in before now.” He boasted.

“Really? That sounds…scenic.” Her eyes lit up. “Maybe next time I could join you!”

“If that would please you, Princess, then nothing would make me happier. But I should let you know that we sleep with sand mites, live off dried monkey meat, and this time, the water was so tainted we vomited for _days_.” His words had the desired effect and her lips twisted into a grimace.

“Then again, I am pretty busy.” She demurred, slipped her hand out of his and returned to her seat. Castiel watched Dean refill Anael’s goblet and return to the gathering of slaves in the corner of the room. Castiel caught his eye and started towards him, but Dean darted away and disappeared into the crowd.

Dean picked his way through the people so that he was no longer visible to Castiel. The last thing he needed right then was to have Castiel come and complicate things further. He looked behind him to make sure that Castiel wasn’t following him, and ran into a young woman. He caught the tray she was carrying before it dropped to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was…” Dean trailed off as he noticed the expression on the girl’s face. “Is…is everything all right?”

“My Prince.” She breathed, and touched her free hand to her forehead, lips, and heart. Dean looked around in a panic. If anyone saw them, he was dead. “Word of your arrival has spread like wildfire through the Nubian camp. Your people are so relieved that you have come to free us.” She knelt and kissed his hand before she stood up and scurried away.

“Sam!” Dean spotted the taller man amongst the hoard of people and waved him over. “Sam, I told you not to tell _anyone_ ” He hissed under his breath.

“I didn’t!” He protested. Dean glared at him, one eyebrow raised. “Okay, so I might have told _one_ person, maybe two, but Dean, your people need to know!” He insisted. They stopped at the sound of silverware against a goblet as the room grew hushed. Assisted by his guards, Pharaoh pulled himself up out of his chair.

“To another successful expedition, and the safe return of our soldiers.” Pharaoh raised his goblet in a toast that the guests echoed. He turned to address Castiel. “Captain. Thanks to the routes you have discovered, our armies can now attack Nubia with overwhelming force. If the Gods are willing, this war will finally end with Egypt’s total victory.” The crowd burst into applause. “Anael, should I continue?”

“Whatever you think is best, Father.” The Pharaoh raised his hand and the room was silent in an instant.

“Castiel. You came to me this morning with a request to set out on another expedition once your garrison has recovered. While I appreciate your bravery and ambition, I have a far more important mission for you. Although it means that you can never leave Egyptian soil again, I believe it will be a joyous assignment for you. It is something I would only entrust to a man that I have long regarded as a member of my own family.”

“It has been an honor and a privilege to serve you, your Majesty.” Castiel’s tone was confident, but Dean could see how the light in his eyes had faded.

“As you already know,” The Pharaoh turned again to address the crowd. “Castiel and my daughter, Anael, have been engaged for nine years now. That’s more than enough time, I think.” He paused as the crowd laughed. “I wish to see my daughter and our nation settled before I leave this world. Therefore, in seven days, Castiel, son of Michael, will wed Princess Anael. The Son of Isis has spoken.” As the words fell over the crowd, they incited joy in most, but invoked a sense of dread and finality in Castiel.

The crowd milled about to discuss wedding preparations and offer their congratulations to Anael. After a few minutes, the festivities were interrupted by a commotion at the main table. Two guards restrained Pharaoh as violent convulsions wracked his body. The entirety of the crowd went stock still, unable to move or tear their eyes away from the horrifying scene.

After several minutes, Pharaoh calmed and went limp in the arms of his guards. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath. Anael stood on shaky feet and addressed the crowd.

“You know that my father has not been well as of late. I assure you that he is all right, he’s just overwrought after today’s excitement. Please, continue to eat and enjoy yourselves. My father and I will retire for the night.” The guards gingerly carried the Pharaoh out of the banquet hall, Anael and several others hot on their heels. Within a few minutes, the banquet hall had emptied of everyone but Castiel, his father, and a few of the slaves.

“A toast to the bridegroom.” Michael lifted two goblets from the table and handed one to Castiel. They both drank, and set the goblets on the tray of a passing slave. “I’ll tell you, if I had known that such an awkward girl could turn into such a remarkable woman, I would’ve married her myself.” Michael joked.

“It’s not too late.” Castiel muttered under his breath. Michael regarded him with confusion.

“I thought you loved Anael?”

“I did. I do.” He corrected himself. “We grew up together, of course I love her.”

“Well then what’s the problem?” When Castiel said nothing, Michael fixed him with an icy stare. “Now you listen to me, Castiel. I’ve spent years working towards this day, and I’m not going to let you ruin it for yourself or for me. Welcome to your new life, son.” Michael let the words hang in the air as he stalked out of the banquet hall and left Castiel alone with his thoughts.

“Nothing is an accident.” Castiel grumbled to himself, and turned to leave but came face to face with—“Dean!” He gasped.

“Excuse me, Captain. I should go.” Castiel grabbed his wrist.

“No, please! Stay.” Dean turned back, his face wary.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Where are you from?” Dean looked shocked for a moment, but a small smile began to form on the corners of his lips.

“Ikaita. It’s a little village near the—“

“Second Cataract.” Dean looked pleased that Castiel knew that. Castiel gave him a small smile. “I’ve been there before. The river’s an entirely different color there.”

“No it isn’t. It’s an entirely different color _here_.” Dean bandied back playfully.

“Fair enough.” Castiel agreed as he eased himself to the floor to sit cross legged in front of Dean.

“When I was little, my father would take me out on his barge and we would spend days sailing the Nile. He would let me steer…and I’d run us aground on purpose whenever there was something I wanted to see on the shore.” Castiel laughed, an actual, genuine laugh that flooded warmth through Dean’s veins.

“Did you ever sail north?” Castiel inquired. Dean’s smile faded into something regretful.

“No. My father thought that since the First Cataract was so close to the border of Egypt, it was too dangerous to take me there.” Dean stared off into space, lost in his memories.

“But there aren’t any Egyptians at the First Cataract. The only thing there is a bunch of small, grassy islands. And the sunlight is different there.” Castiel closed his eyes and immersed himself in the memory. “In Egypt, it’s direct, harsh, glaring…but there it shimmers. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.” He opened his eyes to meet Dean’s indiscernible look.

“Of course. It’s Nubia.” Dean dropped his eyes to the floor. “I wish I could see that part of my country.”

“Wouldn’t it be incredible if we could?” Castiel mused.

“If we could what?” Dean stared at him, confused.

“If we could leave Egypt. You and I. We could take a boat in the middle of the night and just leave. Then we could sail the Nile, visit places only a few others have ever seen. We’ll go South, down into Nubia. You can be my guide!” Castiel spoke faster and faster, voice laced with excitement.

“Say that I do come with you…would you let me steer?” Dean’s smile teased over his lips.

“That depends. Would you run us aground?”

“Only if I see something on the shore that catches my eye. As soon as we stopped, I’d jump out of the boat, kick off my sandals, and just run. There’d be no one there to yell at me, and tell me to remember my manners, or to behave like a pri—“ Dean cut himself off. He had come so close to revealing what would mean his death. “T-to behave.” He managed to stammer out.

“We wouldn’t be bound by any ties of time, or space, or duties.” Castiel’s smile widened.

“And there wouldn’t be a horizon out there we couldn’t chase after.” Dean pressed forward onto his knees and leaned into Castiel’s space.

“We could leave all the misfortunes of the world in the dust behind us.” Castiel mirrored Dean’s position, which brought them even closer.

“I could find the faith I lost as a kid, and put all my trust in something…new.” Dean stopped. Castiel’s eyes seemed so blue this close. Their faces were mere inches apart. If he wanted to, he could lean forward and press their mouths together.

Dean jerked backwards and regained the distance between himself and Castiel. His mind was racing a mile a minute. Why had he been able to talk to Castiel about things he had never told anyone else before? This man was a stranger, but he felt a connection with him that he hadn’t found with any of his family or friends back in Nubia.

Castiel felt the loss of Dean’s body heat like a shot, and it snapped him back into reality. He thought back on their conversation, and it occurred to him that he had said all of those things, _private things_ , to a slave. Someone he would most likely forget within the week. He stood up and cleared his throat.

“It’s not like it matters anyway. I’ll never take you sailing. After next week, I’ll never leave Egypt again.” He sulked. Dean’s head snapped up, his eyes suddenly cold.

“You’re talking like _you_ ’ _ve_ been enslaved.” Dean’s voice was hardly above a whisper, his words clipped and hard.

“Not with chains maybe, but with a loveless marriage.”

“Forced to marry a Princess? Oh, what a tragedy for the poor Captain, savior of Egypt.” Dean mocked, as he stood to stare Castiel in the face. “I know what you really want. You want to go to places where people have been living for centuries, and tell everyone that _you_ discovered them! But instead, you’re being forced onto the Pharaoh’s throne.” Dean nodded, a derisive frown on his face. “It _is_ a great tragedy.”

“Now you’ve gone too far.” Castiel’s voice was thunder rumbling in the distance, a storm about to break, lightning about to strike.

“No, you’ve gone too far!” Dean stalked towards Castiel. “If you don’t like your fate, then you need to take it into your own hands and _change it_! You are your own master, no one has put any shackles on you.” Dean didn’t realize he had grabbed Castiel by the wrists until Castiel yanked them away. “So don’t expect to get any pity or understanding from this humble palace slave.” Dean turned on his heel and stalked out of the room as Castiel stared after his retreating form.

Castiel let out a sigh and his shoulders sagged as the weight of what just happened sunk in. Something told him that the things that Dean had said were secrets he had shared with precious few others before him. And what had Castiel done with Dean’s trust? He had thrown it back in his face, insulted him and belittled him after all Dean had done was try to help. Even worse, all he had done was tell Dean what he already knew.

Castiel grit his teeth and began to make his way towards Anael’s chambers. He had to apologize to Dean, and he had to do it tonight.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It must be difficult for you.”
> 
> “What, planning a wedding?” Dean chuckled.
> 
> “No, being royalty.”
> 
> “Oh, you have no idea!” Anael sighed, but missed the face Dean made behind her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Dean are forming a lovely little friendship! Honestly, the relationship between Amneris and Aida in the musical is one of my absolute favorites to watch as well as write. It's also nice to see Anna and Dean having a nice relationship that's completely platonic every once in a while. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

After her father’s episode at the banquet, Anael had sent all her handmaidens away and told them she wanted to be alone. Now she regretted it, because she had to undress by herself, and she had too much pride to call them back and ask for their help. She managed to remove her jewelry and gown, and get her nightshift on, but her hairstyle was more complicated.

In one hand she held her mirror, in the other a fine ivory comb. She tried to glide the teeth of the comb through the tangled strands of hair, but everything she did only seemed to make the tangles worse. Just as she was about to give in and call one of her handmaidens to come and help her, she felt a gentle, callused hand cover her own.

“Here, let me, Princess.” A deep voice said. She turned her head to see Dean beside her. She considered him for a moment, then nodded and set her mirror down on her vanity table. He took the comb from her hand and set to work on her hair. “How is your father doing?” His voice was low and soft by her ear.

“He’s fine now. His guards took him to his chambers and once he was there he regained consciousness. I spoke with him, and he was able to answer my questions.” She paused. “This illness of his has come on so suddenly, and none of the physicians we’ve brought to him can tell us what it is. Just a few weeks ago he was healthy. I’m so concerned that he—“ She swallowed and forced a smile onto her face. “Well, it was a magnificent feast, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Princess.” Dean agreed. He could see that she needed the change of subject.

“And now with the wedding in a week, I’ll be overrun with preparations. There’s so much that needs to be done! I had no idea how much work went into planning a wedding. There’s the bronzed entryway statue of me, to the centerpieces of lilies and roses arranged to look like me, and so much else. I’ll have posed for more sculptures in the next week than my father has in his whole life!” Anael gushed, and Dean found that he was warming up to this Egyptian princess who was so much more than what she appeared to be.

“It must be difficult for you.”

“What, planning a wedding?” Dean chuckled.

“No, being royalty.”

“Oh, you have no idea!” Anael sighed, but missed the face Dean made behind her back. “The responsibilities are overwhelming.”

“Your people must expect a lot.” Dean finished the last section of her hair and knelt at her side.

“Yes! They want a goddess, and I’m just—“

“Human?” Anael stared at Dean like she was seeing him for the first time.

“Egypt may remember me as the most fashionable woman our nation has ever seen, but they’ll never see me as courageous or powerful. That’s just…not who I am. I feel better when I look beautiful. I’ve found over the years that no matter what tragedies happen around me, fashion can always keep me smiling. I know that sounds sad, but it’s helped me through some of my worst days.” Dean studied her for a moment.

“It’s terrible that a life that’s full of potential has been dismissed, treated like it’s not important. You could be one of the greatest leaders in Egypt’s history.” Dean mused. Anael laughed, but her eyes were weary.

“Maybe one day I could. But my people, my servants, my _father_ …they’ve only ever seen me as a golden statue. I’m beautiful to look at, but otherwise, completely useless.” Dean surged up to his knees and clasped both of her hands in his.

“You can’t think that about yourself. If you think that way about yourself, then no one will ever see you any different. You need to believe that one day, you’ll find something else that makes you feel strong.” Dean assured her. Anael regarded him with surprise, but squeezed his hands in acknowledgement. Dean saw Anael’s eyes travel up to a point behind him, and she gasped.

“Castiel!” Dean turned to see the man leaning against the doorway. He sank back down onto his knees and kept his eyes fixed on the ground as they spoke. “This is my bedchamber, you know that you shouldn’t…I mean you can’t just…” Anael glanced at Dean, then back at Castiel. “Dean, I’m going to need you to leave.” He bowed his head and started to pull himself up to his feet, but Castiel stopped him.

“No, stay. Pour the Princess some wine.” He ordered.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Castiel?” She laughed at his sheepish nod. “Come now, Castiel, how long have we known each other? You should know that isn’t necessary.” They shared a heated look. Castiel glanced over at the entrance to Anael’s bedroom.

“Is that your bed in there?”

“Silk covered and fat with feathers.” She replied with a glint in her eye.

“Why don’t you go in there and wait for me? I’ll join you in a moment.” Anael’s gaze grew uncertain.

“Castiel, are you sure? Our wedding is only a week away.”

“Anna, we’ve been engaged for nine years.” He reminded her. The heat returned to her eyes.

“Good point.” She turned and sauntered off into her bedroom. Castiel turned his attention back to Dean.

“You think you have the right to speak to me like that?” He moved to where Dean was and almost pinned him against the wall. “You think you can scold me like a shrew and then just walk away and leave me there? You must have forgotten that I can have you carried off to the copper mines.” Castiel threatened. Dean turned to lock eyes with Castiel.

“And _you_ must have forgotten that I’m her property now, not yours.” Dean challenged.

“That doesn’t matter now.” Castiel told him as he pushed away from the wall and turned his back to Dean. “Because now I know that you were right.” He heard a choked sound from Dean, and turned back to look back at him, leaning against the wall with a smirk teasing at his lips. “What?”

“I’m shocked. Even in enlightened Nubia, I’ve never heard a man admit he’s wrong before.”

“Castiel, I’m ready!” Anael called from inside her bedroom. Dean’s head whipped towards the door, but Castiel didn’t even flinch.

“I’ll be right there, Princess!” He called back without breaking eye contact with Dean. “Dean, I was wrong. I’ve been selfish. If the Pharaoh doesn’t recover from whatever is wrong with him, then Egypt is going to need a new leader. A strong leader. I don’t think Anael can be that leader.”

“Castiel, your engagement party is waiting!” Anael sounded a little more impatient.

“You shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer. I’ll leave.” Castiel grabbed his hand.

“You were a nobleman before you were captured, correct?”

“Why is that important? There’s nothing noble about me anymore.” Dean tried to pull his hand away, but Castiel’s grip was strong.

“You’re wrong about that. You are noble, and courageous. There aren’t many people in this palace that would even consider speaking so honestly to someone like me. Especially considering that you’re a slave—“

“Oh, yes!” Dean countered, voice sharp. “We can’t ever forget that fact that I’m a slave.” He spat, and this time succeeded in pulling his hand away. He made it all the way to the doorway before Castiel managed to form a response.

“I can’t take back the past, Dean.” The man in question stopped, but didn’t turn around. “But even if I could, even if I had the power to change history…I don’t think I would want to.” Castiel slowly made his way over to Dean, touched his shoulder, and turned him around so they were face to face. “Dean…Dean, I—“

“Castiel!” Anael barged into the chamber with a sheet over her now-bare body. Dean almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to put some space between himself and Castiel. “You barge into my bedchamber, waging a full-frontal attack, if I may be crude, you talk me into bed, and then you keep me waiting! Why?”

“I’m sorry, Anna, I didn’t realize—“

“There is a stark naked princess waiting in her bed, calling your name. What _exactly_ didn’t you realize, Castiel?” Castiel’s mouth opened, but no words came out. “That I would like to spend some time with you before our wedding day? That, maybe, _I_ would like some attention? That just once, I want to feel more important than your adventures in foreign territories?” She took a deep breath and reigned in her anger.

“You know what you should do sometime before our wedding night, Castiel? You should pack up some of that dried monkey meat of yours, go to the royal cartographer and have him draw out a map of the human female body for you. Maybe then you’ll be more eager to come and explore.” Castiel snapped his mouth shut, nodded once, perfunctory, and strode out of the room, shoulders set. Anael turned to Dean.

“Was it something I said?” She whispered, voice full of tears. “When we were children, we understood each other so well, but now…now he’s a mystery to me.” Anael wrapped her arms around herself and moved back into her bedroom, shoulders slumped and head bowed. Dean waited until he was sure she was asleep, then made his way out of her bedchamber.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why not, Dean? No one has seen you since you were captured. It might do everyone some good to see that you’re alive and well.”
> 
> “No, it won’t Sam.” Dean muttered, eyes fixed on the ground.
> 
> “You don’t know that.”
> 
> “Yes, I do.”
> 
> “And how would you know?” Sam’s voice rose in irritation.
> 
> “Because it’s my fault!” Dean screamed. Sam stopped cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter, mainly because on stage this is a very repetitive ensemble number with a HUGE dance break. Seriously, go look up some videos. The dancing is killer! Again, thank you all for reading, and enjoy!

Dean wandered through the halls of the palace. He knew that he should be in his quarters this late at night, but after what had happened between him and Castiel, Dean couldn’t sleep. He ran into Sam as he turned a corner into the entrance hall.

“Dean, there you are! Will you come with me?” Sam whispered.

“Where?”

“To the Nubian camp.” Dean backed away.

“I can’t, Sam. You know what will happen if I go there. Isn’t it enough for them to know I’m here?”

“No, Dean! They need you.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Look, around the camp, I’m known as the person who can get things for people. Ever since people have learned of your arrival, every single one of them has asked me to bring you.” Dean let out a hollow laugh.

“Why? So they can see a reckless idiot dressed like a handmaiden?” Sam started to protest, but Dean cut him off. “That’s what I am! I’m no better than anyone else here.” He turned and started to walk away.

“That’s not true, Dean. Our people need your help.” Dean whirled on him.

“No, they don’t! I wouldn’t be able to help any of them! The only thing my going there would do is make things worse. I screw up everything I do. Besides, I don’t think Adam and the others would be happy to see me.”

“Why not, Dean? No one has seen you since you were captured. It might do everyone some good to see that you’re alive and well.”

“No, it won’t Sam.” Dean muttered, eyes fixed on the ground.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“And how would you know?” Sam’s voice rose in irritation.

“Because it’s my fault!” Dean screamed. Sam stopped cold. “It’s my fault Adam and the others got captured, okay? My dad told me not to go outside the boundaries of our village, but I couldn’t do as I was told and stay put. I needed to see the countryside. I hadn’t been out of the village in years. So, I took Adam and the others with me to the riverbank…and that’s where Castiel’s scouting team captured us.” Dean’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I deserve this! And our people deserve a leader who’ll think of them, not of his own stupid, selfish dreams.”

“Dean, our people want their Prince. Adam asked for you himself just yesterday. He isn’t angry, Dean, I swear. Please come with me.” Sam begged. Dean stared at him for several long moments, then sighed.

“Take me to them.”

\---OoO---

The Nubian slave camp sat just on the outskirts of the palace grounds. It was small and crowded, but full of life. When Sam brought Dean into the camp, all the Nubians were gathered around a fire in the center of the camp. Adam was the first one to see Dean, and leapt to his feet with a shout of joy.

“Dean!” He shouted, others turned to look, and then the whole camp was in an uproar. Dean was surrounded by the entirety of the Nubian camp, every single one of them having something they needed to tell him. Sam touched his hand to his forehead, lips, and heart and knelt at Dean’s side. Before Dean was aware of what was happening, the whole camp was on their knees as well.

“Please, stand up.” Dean pulled Sam to his feet. “I’m not here to be a leader. I’m not fit to lead anyone. You have to understand, you don’t want me to do this, not really.” One by one, the Nubians rose to their feet and stood aside as Adam made his way through them with a bolt of fabric in his arms. He passed by the Nubians and knelt at Dean’s feet.

“I know this isn’t what you deserve. Your robe should be golden and perfect, not this disgusting, tattered thing. But this is what we have. _You_ are what we have. None of us want any better, because you’re what we need.” Sam eased the fabric out of his arms and unfolded it to reveal a haphazard coronation robe. Dean took a step back out of shock.

“You can’t be serious! I’m not cut out for this! Adam, you of all people should know that. I’m the reason you’re here at all!” Adam stood up to face Dean head on.

“Dean, I don’t care. I’ve spoken with everyone and this is what we want. We need you to lead us out of here, Dean. You’re our only hope.” Dean looked at Sam and the robe he held in his hands, then back at Adam, then out at the crowd. Dean looked down at Adam and nodded. A smile formed on Adam’s face that grew into a full blown grin. He rose to his feet and turned to the crowd.

“To the dance!” He cried and the crowd roared in happiness. Some of them ran to large drums that were off to the side of the fire, while others picked up flutes and began to play. The rest danced in ecstatic patterns around the fire, each one in turn passing by Dean and showing some sign of respect. The younger ones kissed his hands, while the older Nubians placed a hand over his heart, which he covered with his own.

At the climax of the celebration Sam stepped in front of Dean as he lowered himself to his knees, bowed his head and spread out his arms. Sam slid the robe onto his shoulders and took a step back as Dean raised himself up to his full height. He made his way through the throng of dancers until he stood in the center of them all. The music came to an abrupt halt and they all froze with their arms outstretched towards Dean. He gestured for them to relax.

“I will do what you’re asking me to. I’ll do my best to lead you through this. But you need to know this: I don’t want you to treat me like a king or a savior. I’m not any of those things. What I am is a man who is promising to do what he can to help his people to the best of his abilities. I know expectations are wild and almost past what I’ll be able to do, but I understand what I have to do now. If I can help Nubia to prosper and keep her people free, then that will be enough.” Dean bowed his head, unable to look in the faces of his people any longer.

Dean kept his head bowed, eyes shut tight and hands clenched in the fabric at his sides, until he felt a hand grab his. Dean looked up and saw the entire Nubian camp on their knees with their hands pressed to their hearts. He looked down at Sam, who clutched at Dean’s hand like a lifeline.

Dean looked out at the faces of his people, people that had placed their lives in Dean’s hands, and made a decision. There was something about him that Castiel liked, and Dean planned on taking advantage of that. All he had to do was make sure Castiel didn’t find out who he was or why he had decided to do this all of a sudden.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve been staring at me.” Dean spine straightened at Castiel’s comment. “All week I’ve felt your eyes follow me wherever I go.”
> 
> “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dean’s hands clenched into fists at the smug confidence in the older man’s tone.
> 
> “Don’t think that you’ll be able to use me to claim your freedom just because you’ve caught my eye. I’ll admit, I find you bewitching,” Dean snorted. “But I’m not that easy to persuade.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter. Believe me when I say that the next one will be longer! They are so close! Just a little bit longer to wait, I promise. Thanks so much, and enjoy!!

One of Dean’s responsibilities as a handmaiden was washing linen for Princess Anael and the other nobles at the palace. It wasn’t a terrible job, but it was tedious and seemed never-ending. Every day, they hauled large baskets of linen down to the Nile, washed and dried them, folded them, and brought them back to the palace. On a good day, Dean could get almost twenty bolts of linen washed and dyed before he was too exhausted to do anything else. Unfortunately, today was not a good day.

As for plans to get Castiel to help his people went, so far he had come up with a big, fat zero. Whenever he thought about Castiel, his mind wandered to how the man’s eyes had lit up when he had talked about his desire to travel. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt almost…drawn to this Egyptian that had turned his whole life upside down.

No sooner had Castiel entered Dean’s thoughts than the man himself appeared with two of his men. Dean’s eyes traced over the lines of Castiel’s frame. The older man wasn’t terrible to look at, his tanned skin the perfect contrast to his dark obsidian hair. Dean couldn’t look away.

Then, Dean found himself staring into a pair of radiant blue eyes. Dean flushed and darted his gaze away. Dean heard Castiel dismiss the soldiers, who saluted him and took their leave. Dean tried to refocus his attention on the bolts of linen, but a shadow fell over him and hid his work.

“You’ve been staring at me.” Dean spine straightened at Castiel’s comment. “All week I’ve felt your eyes follow me wherever I go.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dean’s hands clenched into fists at the smug confidence in the older man’s tone.

“Don’t think that you’ll be able to use me to claim your freedom just because you’ve caught my eye. I’ll admit, I find you bewitching,” Dean snorted. “But I’m not that easy to persuade.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. If you’ve caught me looking your way, it was only because I was checking to see if I needed to refill your chalice.” Dean taunted as he looked up to meet Castiel’s eyes.

“That’s funny, because I don’t seem to have a chalice right now, and yet…you’re looking.” Castiel smirked, and Dean grimaced. Castiel won that one. He cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the bolts of linen in his basket.

“Well, this has been fun, but I have linen to wash. If you’ll excuse me…” Dean picked up his basket and started to move to a more secluded spot along the Nile.

“I do not excuse you. Stop there!” Castiel commanded. Dean turned to face him, shoulders stiff with anger.

“You wanted something from me?”

“Oh yes.” Castiel’s voice dipped into an octave Dean hadn’t thought possible. Dean took a step backward at the insinuation in his tone. “I want to make your life easier, Dean. Tell me what I can do for you.” All hints of his earlier tone were gone. This was the opportunity he had been looking for on a silver platter.

“You want to help me?” Dean challenged. “Then help my people.” Castiel shook his head.

“No, I want to help _you._ ”

“I _am_ my people. And I can’t go on living in that cushy palace while my family and friends are dying in that disgusting camp!” Dean stopped as he realized the perfect position he was in. “Do you want my ‘affection’, Captain?” Dean stepped right into Castiel’s personal space.

“I could have your ‘affection’ right here and now if I commanded it.” Castiel replied and Dean bristled. Castiel softened. “But that’s not why I…I want to know if you feel anything for me—besides contempt.” That derailed Dean’s train of thought.

“I—I don’t know…” Dean answered. He was so lost in the oceans of Castiel’s eyes that he didn’t notice the older man’s face getting closer and closer.

“Then I guess we should find out, shouldn’t we?” Castiel breathed out, then sealed their lips together. Dean stiffened. His hands pressed against Castiel’s chest, although Dean wasn’t sure whether it was to push him away or pull him closer. Castiel lifted his hand to cup the side of Dean’s face and tilted his head to the side.

“Dean, I just saw Anael, and she—“Dean shoved Castiel away. Sam stood several paces away from them with his eyes averted. He cleared his throat and looked at Dean. “Anael has asked for you to join her at the marketplace immediately.” Sam turned his gaze to Castiel as Dean fled the scene. “The Princess. Your fiancée?”

Castiel ran a hand through his hair and groaned in frustration. He stalked over to the edge of the Nile and removed his sandals to dip his feet into the water. “Come here, Samuel.” He motioned with his hand. Sam made his way to Castiel’s side. “Sit down.” Sam removed his own sandals and dropped his feet into the water beside Castiel’s.

“Now it goes without saying that you are not to speak to anyone of what you saw between Dean and myself.”

“Of course, Master. You know that I would never—“

“Nor are you to speak to anyone of what I am about to say to you now. Not my father, not any of your fellow servants, not Anael, and especially not Dean.” Sam nodded and Castiel let out a deep breath before he continued. “I have known Anael all my life and I love her more than I can say. But I do not feel that my…affections toward her are those that a husband should have towards his wife. When I look at Anael, I see a little red-haired girl holding my hand and laughing as we snuck out of the palace in the middle of the night. But when I look at Dean…” He pressed his palms to his eyes.

“I look at him and see someone that is a complete mystery to me. There’s so much about him that I don’t know and I want to find out. I want to know everything about him. He’s so beautiful and strong and courageous…Anael’s not like that. I used to have all the answers. I knew where I stood in life. I was so confident that what I was doing was the right thing, and now…now I’m not sure of anything.”

“Castiel…” Sam breathed, and Castiel turned his head to meet his eyes.

“I’m ready to risk everything that’s been laid out for me since the day I was born just for the chance to be with him. I never thought I would be like that.” Castiel admitted. All Sam could do was watch as he drew his feet out of the water, put his sandals back on, and headed towards the marketplace.

Sam was in a complete state of shock. He couldn’t believe how much Castiel had changed since he had returned from his expedition. It wasn’t the first time that Castiel had trusted him with his private thoughts. It was rare, and only happened when Castiel couldn’t make sense of things himself. It wasn’t Sam’s place, but he knew that if things went any further between Dean and Castiel that he would have to intervene. Castiel may have fallen in love with Dean, but he wouldn’t be the only one effected if things got out of hand.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being in love can do that to a person.” Dean fixed his gaze on something in the distance.
> 
> “No, I didn’t mean that.” Anael chuckled and gave his hand a light squeeze. “I meant having a friend. A real, honest friend that I can trust with anything. Thank you for being that for me, Dean.” Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to get words out to express his gratitude, but all he could manage was a shaky nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a longer chapter! I hope that this satisfies you guys. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

As Dean hurried away from the river bank and towards the marketplace, he couldn’t keep his mind off of Castiel and the kiss. The last thing he had expected out of that conversation was for Castiel to kiss him. He thought that Castiel saw him as property, as a slave, something useful but not worth much. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Castiel hadn’t been rough with him like Dean would have expected. He had been gentle and soft and, though Dean hated to admit it, tender. This wasn’t the same brash, forceful captain that Dean had met on the slave barge. This was an entirely different man and Dean didn’t know what to make of it.

He thought back on his last few conversations with Castiel and it hit him. He realized that something undeniable had sparked between them. Despite Dean’s extravagant protests, he had _liked_ the kiss. Hell, he wanted it to happen again. He shook his head. It _couldn’t_ happen again. Dean couldn’t let his own feelings to get in the way of his people. No matter what he felt for Castiel, no matter how much he fell for him, he couldn’t abandon the people he had sworn to lead.

Dean was so lost in his thoughts that he almost ran into Anael as he entered the marketplace. She looked exhausted and drained. Dark circles had formed under her eyes that Dean noticed, despite her attempt at covering them.

“Dean, there you are!” She grabbed onto his hand and pulled him behind her as she hurried through the marketplace. “I need your help. You are my most trusted assistant, Dean, so I need you to be honest with me.” Dean gulped as Anael turned to face him, eyes solemn.

“O-of course, Princess. Anything you need, I’m here.” He stammered.

“Tell me, Dean, and don’t hold back. Which of these do you think looks better on me?” She suddenly released his hand, grabbed two bolts of linen, and held them up, one on either side of her face.

Dean was startled by her question. He had expected her to ask him about Castiel, but he would take this momentary reprieve while he had it. He studied both bolts of fabric against her hair and eyes before he chose the bolt of forest green linen on her right.

“I think this one would look beautiful on you, Princess.” His hands made contact with the luxurious fabric and he shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll say this for you Egyptians,” He said to the vendor. “Your thread count is _amazing._ ” The vendor smiled and gave Dean a polite nod as he paid for the bolt of linen and was once again dragged away by Anael.

They wandered through the marketplace for hours. After a while, Anael tugged on Dean’s hand and brought him to a stop.

“Dean, I…I’m worried. Why hasn’t Castiel come back to see me again? I know he was upset with me before, but it’s been three days now, and I…” She trailed off. When she looked up and made eye contact with Dean he saw that her eyes were wet. “I need to see him, I need to make things right between us before we’re married.” Dean squeezed her hand.

“It’s not my place to giving you advice, but just this once, I think you should apologize. Castiel is stubborn and hard headed. He won’t make the first move to fix things between the two of you. A-at least that’s how he comes across to me, Princess.” Dean scrambled as Anael gave him a look.

“Thank you. I know it’s not proper for Castiel and I to be together before our wedding night, but an empty room is merciless. I hope you won’t be offended if I say that I need a reprieve from that every once in a while.” Dean gave Anael a kind smile, which she returned. “I have to say, I never thought that it would show me things that I didn’t really understand until now.”

“Being in love can do that to a person.” Dean fixed his gaze on something in the distance.

“No, I didn’t mean that.” Anael chuckled and gave his hand a light squeeze. “I meant having a friend. A real, honest friend that I can trust with anything. Thank you for being that for me, Dean.” Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to get words out to express his gratitude, but all he could manage was a shaky nod.

“Dean!” A voice rang through the marketplace. Dean turned around to see Adam run up to them, his arms full of extravagant fabrics.

“Adam, where did you get all of this?” Dean asked.

“From the Egyptian captain!” Adam’s grin almost split his face in half. “He’s giving away everything he owns to the Nubian slaves!” With that, Adam raced away. Anael and Dean turned to look at a makeshift stall at the end of the row where Castiel and a few of his closest men appeared to be distributing all of his things to a line of slaves. Anael turned back to Dean and looked like she might burst with joy.

“Look, he’s getting ready to move into the palace! I guess any the doubts he had the other night are gone now.” Anael grabbed Dean’s hands and started to make her way back towards the palace, then stopped. “But you stay here, Dean! You can apologize for me.”

“No, I couldn’t do that.” Dean chanced a look back at Castiel.

“You can.” Anael smiled. “You always manage to say the right thing. I wish I had been born with that gift.”

“Princess—“ Dean began, but Anael cut him off.

“Anna.” She said.” Call me Anna, please. I haven’t heard anyone call me by that name in months.” Dean nodded.

“Anna, please, don’t make me do this.” He whispered, throat tight.

“Oh no, I would never make you!” Anael replied. “But I am _asking_ you as my friend.” Dean’s throat closed up, and he gave her a shaky nod. She smiled, bright and genuine before she headed back to the palace, a skip in her step. Dean took a deep breath and headed over to the stall Castiel had set up.

Once the last of the Nubians had left, Dean stepped up to the stand. Castiel was bent over a basket of clothes and fabrics, and didn’t see him approach. When he looked up he started, then a soft smile spread across his face. “Dean.”

“Thank you. Y’know, for doing…all this.” Dean motioned to the stand.

“It was nothing.” Castiel shrugged. “Actually, it was everything, but that really doesn’t matter.” Dean laughed, caught up in the moment before he remembered what he was there to do.

“Castiel. I came here to tell you that Princess Anael wants to apologize for the things she said the other night, and she promises to—“

“Dean.” Castiel stood up and reached for his hand. Dean pulled away and turned his back. He didn’t think he could say no to Castiel if he had to look in his eyes while he said it.

“You’re engaged to my mistress!” Dean protested.

“It was a match arranged by my father when I was fifteen, and now it will be unarranged by me.” Castiel replied, voice even and certain. Dean shook his head.

“It won’t work. You need to forget about this, about me. You’ll go raid another country tomorrow and rebuild your fortune. Cas, you’re an Egyptian! Nothing can change that.” Dean sighed. “I don’t know why you even bothered to do this.” Dean turned around to see that Castiel had moved closer and was now right in front of him.

“Don’t you?” Castiel murmured as his eyes traced the contours of Dean’s face. He reached up and pulled him closer. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a small group of servants passed by. “We can’t talk here; too many eyes. Come with me.” Castiel dragged him out of the marketplace and down into an abandoned courtyard just outside. When they were alone, Dean yanked his arm out of Castiel’s grip and backed away from him. Castiel frowned, but didn’t stop.

“Since I was a child, I’ve lived exactly the way my father told me to live. I spent my time learning how to fight and form strategies, that Egypt was the ultimate power in the world. I saw one person besides my tutors and my father, and now we are engaged. I can’t live like that anymore because now I know better. I’ve seen the world and now I know that there is so much more to it than Egypt and what we have to offer. I don’t want to lose the best friend I’ve ever had to a loveless marriage, but my father is obsessed with me marrying into the throne. I want to be with someone because I love them and they love me in return.”

Dean took a step towards Castiel and as soon as he was within reach, Castiel pulled him into his arms and buried his face into Dean’s neck. Dean was shocked by the embrace, but he softened and wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders. “I can’t marry Anna. Not after this, not now that you’ve…” Castiel trailed off and tugged Dean closer. “I’ve made my choice. I want to be with you. Let everyone else go hang themselves, you’re more important now.”

“Cas…” Dean moved backwards so that he could look Castiel in the eye. There was nothing but pure honesty and warmth in his gaze. Ever so slowly, Dean leaned in until he and Castiel were so close that he could feel the older man’s breath on his lips. Castiel moved a hand up to cradle Dean’s face, his other hand splayed out on Dean’s back and pulled him forward into a kiss.

Their first kiss was nothing like the one they shared now. Where their first kiss was experimental and chaste, this one was exploratory and passionate. Hands mapped out the dips and curves of bodies, lips caressed, tongues twisted and tangled in an intimate embrace. Dean’s hand tugged at Castiel’s hair and caused the older man to release a groan into the kiss.

When they broke apart for air, Castiel’s face was flushed and his pupils blown with only a thin circle of cobalt left around the edges. Dean was overwhelmed for a moment, and shivered in Castiel’s arms. The older man tilted his head to the side.

“Are you cold?” He asked, gently rubbing his hands up and down Dean’s arms. Dean chuckled, disentangled himself, and took a few steps away to recollect his thoughts.

“You could have at least kept a blanket or two.” Dean replied. “I would have been fine with that.” Now it was Castiel’s turn to chuckle.

“No, I really couldn’t have.” Dean felt a pair of strong arms wind around his waist from behind and draw him back against a broad chest. “Man enters this world without possessions. I want to be a new man for you, Dean, cleansed of my past sins.” Castiel brushed his nose against Dean’s neck and followed it with a soft press of lips. Dean tilted his head to give Castiel better access and his heart pounded in echo of the rhythmic drums in the distance. Without warning, Castiel broke away from Dean and took a step towards the source of the drums.

“What is it? Cas, what’s going on?” Dean asked, confused and more than a little concerned.

“The rest of my armies have just returned. Pharaoh will be expecting a victory celebration. I need you to go back to the palace. You’ll be safe there with Anael.” He turned to leave, then stopped and crossed back over to Dean. “Here, take my amulet.” He took the ankh he always wore off and placed it around Dean’s neck, then cupped his face and kissed him. “If anyone stops you, show them that and they’ll let you pass without any trouble.”

Dean watched him walk away and was unable to stop his next words from leaving his mouth. “I love you.” He blurted out and clapped his hands over his mouth.

“I heard that.” Castiel strode back towards Dean with a huge smile on his face. “Say it again, I command you.” Castiel tried to pry Dean’s fingers away from his lips, but Dean kept them pressed against his mouth. They both dissolved into laughter and Dean let his hands fall away so that he could claim Castiel’s lips. Someone cleared their throat and they scrambled to break apart. Castiel pushed in front of Dean and shielded him from the soldier with his body.

“Captain.” The soldier greeted, wise enough to keep his eyes averted.

“You don’t need to tell me. I’ve heard the drums.” The soldier shook his head.

“That’s not why I’ve come, Captain. We’ve captured the Nubian King.” Dean’s world stopped at those words. He stumbled as though he had been punched in the gut. Castiel spared a glance at Dean but soon turned his attention back to the soldier.

“You took him alive?” He asked. The soldier nodded his head once. “Find out which of my men are responsible for this and tell them to find me at the banquet later. I’ll make sure that they receive the highest honors for this. I’ll be with them shortly.” If Dean thought that it couldn’t have gotten worse, then he was wrong. Castiel’s words sent ice down Dean’s spine and squeezed all the air out of his lungs.

Dean was so focused on trying to rationalize what Castiel had done that he didn’t hear Castiel dismiss the soldier. He wasn’t aware of anything until he felt someone grab his shoulders. “Dean! Dean, are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right!” Dean yanked himself out of Castiel’s grip and took several steps away from him.

“Dean,” Castiel admonished with no small amount of pain on his face. “Our countries are at war. There’s nothing I can do to change that. If I let on even the tiniest bit that I don’t agree with the war, I _will_ be killed. I’m sorry Dean, but my hands are tied.”

“You don’t understand, Cas, he’s my--!” Dean stopped himself. “He’s my King.” Castiel reached for Dean but dropped his hand.

“I am sorry, Dean. Please believe me when I say that I wish there were more that I could do.” Dean watched through tear-blurred eyes as Castiel made his way back to the palace. He waited until he was completely out of sight before he set off towards the Nubian camp.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For years I have dreamed that I would live to see your father march on Egypt in triumph and finally put this endless war behind us. Now, we have no hope. When the King dies, Nubia dies with him.” The crowd was in an uproar over Bobby’s words. Dean tried in vain to silence them, then finally raised his voice over the grieving crowd.
> 
> “No! Nubia will never die!” One by one, voices lowered in volume until all was silent. “Even though we’ve been enslaved and we’re far from our home, Nubia lives in our hearts. As long as we are alive, Nubia still lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't listen to or watch anything else from this show, then this needs to be the one. The song is called The Gods Love Nubia, and it's like a religious experience. If you can, find a live performance from a Broadway or national tour production. I can't put into words how incredible this song is, or how important it has become to me personally. I can only hope that I've done the original justice. Thank you all so much, and enjoy!

People crowded Dean the second he stepped into the Nubian camp. Adam was almost in tears as he clung to Dean’s arm. “Dean! Dean, tell me it isn’t true!” He pleaded.

“He can’t.” Another man, Kevin, piped up. “I saw our King dragged through the streets with my own eyes.”

“I’ve heard the Egyptian’s have already executed him!” A young woman with two small children cried.

“And that they’re carrying his head through the streets of the city on a pike—“

“No, no that’s not true!” Dean shouted over the din. Sam stepped up beside him and placed a hand on Dean’s arm.

“John Winchester of Nubia is still alive.” Sam announced. It took every ounce of Dean’s willpower not to fall to his knees with relief. “I saw him taken to the prison.”

“Even still, it’s only a matter of time until the Egyptians slaughter him.” Adam shook his head. A murmur of agreement went through the crowd, then fell silent as the crowd parted to let Bobby Singer pass through. Dean was their leader, but Bobby was their elder, and the Nubians held him in high respect.

“For years I have dreamed that I would live to see your father march on Egypt in triumph and finally put this endless war behind us. Now, we have no hope. When the King dies, Nubia dies with him.” The crowd was in an uproar over Bobby’s words. Dean tried in vain to silence them, then finally raised his voice over the grieving crowd.

“No! Nubia will _never_ die!” One by one, voices lowered in volume until all was silent. “Even though we’ve been enslaved and we’re far from our home, Nubia lives in our hearts. As long as we are alive, Nubia still lives.” Dean carefully made his way through the crowd as he spoke.

“The gods are still on our side. If they had abandoned us, then we wouldn’t even be in this camp. We would be lying dead somewhere in the Egyptian deserts or in the copper mines.” As Dean passed through the crowd, he could see hope return to desolate faces. “The gods love Nubia, the beautiful, the golden. Our land will never die, because we are Nubia! Our pain, our suffering, it’s only for right now. They can break our bodies, but they can never break our spirits.”

The crowd cheered. They had not forgotten their king, but they knew that they would survive no matter what. “Sam!” Dean called and the young man was at his side in an instant. “I need to see my father. Can you get me into the prison?” Sam grinned.

“You bet! Meet me at the prison gates at dawn tomorrow morning. The guard that’s on duty owes me a favor.” Sam clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared back into the crowd. Dean stayed for another hour or two, then made his way back to the palace to get some sleep before going to the prison.

\---OoO---

Sam led Dean through the halls of the prison where John Winchester was held captive. It seemed like they walked for hours before they finally reached a tiny dank cell in the very back. The guard leaned on the wall by the cell door, lost in his thoughts. Sam cleared his throat to get his attention, careful to ensure that Dean was well hidden.

“A word with the prisoner.”

“I can’t do that, Sam. Sorry, but I have strict orders from the Chief Minister not to let anyone see this man.” Dean started to worry, but Sam squeezed his hand.

“Come on, Gadreel. You owe me a favor and you know it.” Gadreel shook his head.

“Sorry, Sam. No exceptions.” Sam heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“Fine. I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to go this far.” Sam reached into a pouch on the belt at his waist and pulled out a handful of gold coins. Dean’s eyes widened in shock. Gadreel eyed the gold for several long moments, then took the coins out of Sam’s hand and shoved them into his own pouch.

“All right, Sam. I can give you five minutes. See that you don’t stay any longer than that.” Gadreel said as he walked down to the end of the hall to give them space. Dean raced forward to the barred door and tried to make out the shape of his father in the shadows.

“Dad? Are you in there?” He whispered. Suddenly a haggard face emerged from the back of the cell.

“Dean?” Dean reached his hand through the bars and grabbed John’s. “I knew you’d survive. I knew I’d trained you well enough to take care of yourself in a fight…at least, I wouldn’t let myself believe anything else.” Dean gave a watery laugh and held tighter to his father’s hand.

“Have they mistreated you?” Dean checked over what he could see of his father for any visible injuries.

“No, not yet. If I had to take a guess, I’d say they’re saving that part for my execution three days from now.”

“It won’t come to that. We’re going to get you out of here, I promise.”

“In two days, the Pharaoh’s daughter is getting married. Most of the guards will be needed at the wedding to control the crowds.” Sam piped up from behind Dean. John craned his head to try and get a good look at him.

“And who is this young minister of war?” John narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, that’s Sam. You remember him, right Dad? Gwen and Christian’s son.” John’s eyes went wide.

“Sam? He’s here?” Dean shot him a confused look, but moved aside so that Sam was visible. Sam knelt beside Dean in front of the cell. “ _Sam._ ” John reached his free hand out to touch Sam’s face. “Sammy. Gods, you’re all grown up.”

“Hey, Dad.” Sam whispered. Dean almost fell over out of shock.

“ _Dad_ ‽ What do you mean ‘Dad’‽ I thought you were Christian’s son!” Dean stuttered. Sam rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Sam is my son.” John explained. “Mary, your mother, told me she was pregnant the night the Egyptians first invaded our home. The Egyptians already knew that you were my son and heir. There was no way we could hide you from them. But Sam…Sam they didn’t know about. So we hid Mary’s pregnancy from you and when Sam was born, we asked Gwen and Christian to raise him. They had no children of their own, and they agreed. I told Sam before his eighth birthday who he was, but he couldn’t tell anyone else.”

Dean was speechless. His mind was racing faster than he could keep track of. He couldn’t make heads nor tails of the fact that John had another son, that _he had a brother_ and his father had never told him. Dean opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out.

“Dean, I’m sorry I never told you, but it was for your own good. I knew if I told you about Sam that you would stop at nothing to find him and bring him back. I couldn’t risk the Egyptians capturing you.” Dean nodded.

“It’s fine, Dad.” John raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, no. It’s not fine. But I don’t have time to talk about this right now. We’ll talk about it once we’re both back in Nubia, free and clear.” Sam cleared his throat.

“The Chief Jailer will be attending Anael’s wedding, so they’ve assigned a guard to take his place. A man I know.” Dean thanked Sam with his eyes for the change of subject.

“You’re suggesting that we will be able to bribe this guard into releasing me.” John stated.

“Let’s just say we’ve done…business in the past.” Sam looked almost too proud of himself.

“That’s going to take a lot of gold. More gold than any of us have access to.” Dean tried to bring the plan back to reality.

“Maybe more than either of you have access to. I’ve been stealing from the palace for years. I thought that someday I might be able to use it to find my way back to Nubia. But if I can send you home…” John reached out and took Sam’s hand.

“We’ll all be going home soon, Sam. Now, how are the docks guarded?”

“By the Captain’s soldiers.” Sam replied.

“So the odds of us escaping without a fight are slim. Do you know how to use a sword?” Sam paled.

“N-not really. I prefer to give encouragement from the sidelines.” Dean smiled at Sam, then reached into his tunic to take out Castiel’s amulet.

“A fight won’t be necessary. If I show them this, then the guards will let us pass.” Dean bragged.

“Castiel gave you that?” Sam asked incredulously. John stiffened at the mention of his name.

“Castiel? The commander of the Egyptian army? The man whose soldiers captured me and brought me here?” John’s voice was quiet, but it permeated the air like the static before a lightning storm.

“Yes, but he’s not like them, Dad! I promise he’s not. He’s changed.” Dean pleaded.

“Ahh yes, _changed_. Does he still lead the Pharaoh’s army?” John waited for Dean’s nod. “Does he still command his men to invade our lands, our villages and take whatever catches their eyes?”

“He regrets what he did before.” Dean insisted.

“Don’t embarrass yourself with such idiotic sentiment! Don’t you remember what those Egyptians did to your mother?” Dean flinched. “Don’t tell me this _Egyptian_ grieves for the Nubian men executed, the woman raped and the children taken into slavery.” John jerked his head in Sam’s direction. He took a deep breath and continued, more reserved than before. “Any soft look, any kind word that you’ve given him betrays the innocents that have suffered at his hands.”

John leveled Dean with a pointed look before he delivered his final judgment. “You will cut this man from your heart.” Dean bowed his head and fixed his gaze on the dirt floor.

“Yes sir.” He whispered. John shook his head.

“I never would have guessed that these Egyptians could ever give me another reason to hate them.” John spat. His words pierced Dean to the core.

“Time’s up, Sam.” Gadreel’s voice sounded from behind them. Sam nodded and pulled himself to his feet.

“C’mon, Dean. Let’s go.” Dean stood, mind in a daze. He turned back to get one last glimpse of his father, but John had already retreated back into his cell. Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist and lead him out of the prison. As soon as they emerged into the dim light of the early morning, Dean pulled away from Sam.

“You go back to the palace, Sammy. Cas’ll be expecting you.” Dean mumbled.

“What about you, Dean? Are you gonna be all right?” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, Sammy. I’ll be fine. You get back to Cas.” Dean gave him a half-smile and Sam returned it before he turned his back and started his trek back to the palace. Dean waited until he was gone before he let his legs give out beneath him.

He knelt alone in the middle of the desert as his shoulders shook with repressed sobs. He stayed like for an immeasurable amount of time, then got to his feet and started to wander.

“This is easy.” He slurred. “All I have to do is pretend that I don’t know him at all. That we never met. I just need to forget how much I—“ He cut himself off and sucked in a breath through his teeth. Within an instant, his grief had turned to rage and he lifted his head to look at the skies.

“Is this how you repay me?” He screamed. “I’ve been faithful, I’ve been devoted to you my entire life! Is this some sort of test? Am I supposed to prove my loyalty to you by giving up the only people that matter to me here? Is that what this is? Well you can take your loyalty and your faithfulness, and shove it up your omnipotent asses, because I’m done with this!” Dean raged, then burst into manic laughter. “I guess it really is easy, isn’t it? It’s easy as life.” He spat at no one in particular, then started off towards the Nubian camp.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can read this while my father and I talk.” Anael turned it over in her hands.
> 
> “’The Campaign at Kadesh.’” Anael read aloud.
> 
> “It’ll give us something to talk about.” Anael looked up at him.
> 
> “I didn’t realize that we didn’t have anything else to talk about.” She studied him for a few seconds. “But then again, there are a lot of things I haven’t realized.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains violence, torture, and minor character death. If that stuff grosses you out then just skip the next four paragraphs after two soldiers come up to Sam. The death is part of the plot and is mentioned in the next chapter, so you won't miss anything if you skip past those paragraphs. Thank you all so much, and enjoy!

Anael sat ramrod straight in one of the chairs in the palace war room across from Michael, as he made elaborate gestures over a map. She held up one manicured hand to silence him.

“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good, but there’s something I don’t understand. Why did we invade Babylon?”

“Because as soon as we have control of the waterways, the rest of the world opens up to us, and then it’s as good as ours.” Michael’s sly smile curved up half of his mouth.

“Of course. Then you mean to tell me that our armies just stormed in and seized power from the Babylonians?” Michael nodded. “How oppressive of us.” Michael’s eyes narrowed.

“That may be true Princess, but where did you think that beautiful necklace came from?” He motioned to the golden amulet with a tear shaped agate stone that hung at her collar bone. Anael grasped it, rubbed it between her fingers, then pulled it off over her head and set it on the table between her and Michael.

“It doesn’t seem so beautiful anymore.” She murmured. Footsteps sounded on the stone floor and she looked up from the necklace to see Castiel at the head of the table, head tilted in confusion. Michael stood up to greet his son.

“Ah, Castiel! I was just explaining our foreign campaigns to Anael.” Michael explained. Castiel nodded, but Anael could tell his mind was elsewhere.

“Really.”

“Yes.” Michael’s eyes narrowed into slits. “She’s been wondering what’s been preoccupying you lately, Castiel.” Anael stood up and took Castiel’s hands in her own.

“I feel like we haven’t had a moment to ourselves since you got back from your expedition. I miss you, Cas. Can’t we spend this afternoon together?” A hopeful smile graced her delicate features.

“Of course, Anna. But I’d like to have a word with my father in private first, if that’s all right with you. Here,” Castiel picked a scroll off of the table and handed it to her. “You can read this while my father and I talk.” Anael turned it over in her hands.

“’The Campaign at Kadesh.’” Anael read aloud.

“It’ll give us something to talk about.” Anael looked up at him.

“I didn’t realize that we didn’t have anything else to talk about.” She studied him for a few seconds. “But then again, there are a lot of things I haven’t realized.” She turned on her heel and headed out of the war room.

“That was clever of you, bringing her in here.” Castiel’s words were ice and his tone dripped venom.

“You gave me no choice, Castiel. I can’t allow you to neglect the girl, not after all the trouble I’ve gone through.” Castiel snorted.

“You arranged a marriage. Pardon me if I don’t see that as a great deal of trouble.”

“There have been other things I’ve arranged, Castiel. Things I’ve done for you.”

“I haven’t asked you to do anything for me!” Castiel hissed and stepped into Michael’s space.

“Of course you haven’t. You’ve been too busy wasting all your time with that disgusting slave.” Castiel’s heart stopped and all the blood rushed out of his face.

“Oh, your spies are good.” Castiel growled. Michael laughed.

“It’s okay, Castiel. You’re allowed to keep your little…diversion. Just wait until after you and Anael are married, got it?”

“You mean like you did?” Castiel challenged.

“Your mother didn’t have any complaints.” Michael retorted, unphased.

“My mother didn’t have any choice.” This time the comment hit home and Michael’s air of enforced relaxation dropped away.

“Do you realize that your whore could cost you the throne?” Castiel’s eyes glinted like steel in the sun, but he stood his ground.

“I don’t give a shit about the throne! I’m not like you, and I never will be.” Michael’s smile returned, sarcastic and biting.

“Don’t come on so cocksure, boy.” Michael spat. “You’re not the master of your fate, here. I am. You’d better come to terms with the fact that you’re my son. No matter how hard you try, you’ll always end up doing exactly what I would’ve done. What’s the saying, Castiel? Oh, yes. ‘Like father, like son.’”

“Don’t assume just because you’re my blood that I’ll make the same choices as you. I’ve done horrible things in my life, but I know better than to blame it on you. This may come as a shock, but I’m no copy. I am my own person, and you have no control over me.” Michael’s lips pulled back in a sneer.

“So you really want to throw away your future for some wretched slave?” Castiel rushed at Michael, grabbed his tunic, and hauled him close so that they were nose to nose.

“He has a name.” Castiel roared.

“Don’t try to convince me, Castiel. I’ve been through this before. In a few months, you won’t even be able to remember his name.” Castiel tossed him to the floor.

“You can forget about your plans, Michael. There’s not going to be a wedding.” Castiel hissed, then stalked out of the war room. Michael decided on the best course of action before he called in his personal soldiers.

“Find the slave called Dean. And when you do, kill him. Make sure he suffers.” Michael ordered. The two men nodded and started off for the Nubian camp.

\---OoO---

Upon Dean’s arrival at the camp he was greeted by a young girl who handed him a letter. “I was told to give this to you.” She bowed, then returned to her weaving. Dean opened it and recognized Castiel’s handwriting. He refolded it before anyone could see, moved to a spot where he wasn’t directly visible and wouldn’t be disturbed, and opened the letter.

My dearest Dean,

I’m sorry for everything I’ve said, and for all the things I haven’t said as well. When things in life get complicated, I stumble at my best, and somehow manage to muddle through and come out the other side. I wish that our lives could be simple. I don’t want the world, only you. I wish that I could tell you all of this face to face, but there’s never the time or place, so I guess that this letter will have to suffice. I love you, truly, immeasurably, eternally.

Yours,

Castiel

Dean was stunned for several seconds. He refolded the letter and tucked it into the pouch at his belt. Sam ran over to him and pulled him into the center of the camp.

“Tomorrow, Dean. Tomorrow you and your father will be free!” Sam exclaimed.

“We will live to tell our grandchildren about the King’s great escape from Egypt’s prisons!” Adam appeared at Dean’s elbow.

“Nubia will prevail!” Sam shouted. Movement in the corner of Dean’s eye caught his attention. He turned his head to see two palace soldiers enter the camp and approach the crowd. “Quiet!” Sam hissed, then approached the soldiers. “Is there something you need from us?” Sam towered above both men.

“We’ve come for the slave called Dean. Which one is he?” The older one asked. Dean made to step forward, but was held back by three men while the women formed a barrier around him.

“I’m Dean.” Adam moved so that he stood in front of them, shoulders squared and a determined expression fixed on his face.

“No!” Dean jerked forward, but the men that held him gripped tighter while another moved behind him and pressed a hand over his mouth.

Dean watched the younger of the two soldiers seize Adam by the arms and force him to the ground. He wrapped one arm around his chest to restrain him while the other hand gripped his hair and yanked his head back. The other soldier drew his blade and dragged it in a harsh line down the boy’s chest as he screamed in agony. This continued for ages until Adam was unrecognizable through the blood, torn skin, and tears streaming down his face. With a sense of finality, the older soldier dragged the blade across Adam’s neck. He let him choke and gasp for a few seconds before he dropped him to the ground and grabbed him again by the ankles to drag him away.

Once the soldiers were out of sight, the crowd released Dean. They let him fall to his knees and left him alone to mourn Adam on their own. The last man, before he left as well, squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dean, but we couldn’t let them find you. Every person here would give their lives a thousand times over for the sake of Nubia. Adam included, may the gods guide him home.”

Dean felt like he was going to be sick. He heaved in great gulps of air as he fought the urge to vomit. He pressed his forehead to the ground, and took in one last deep breath before he hauled himself to his feet. His mind stopped cold. Cas. The soldiers would have no doubt told Castiel that he was dead. He stumbled towards the entrance to the camp, but Sam stopped him.

“Where are you going?” Dean didn’t reply, didn’t even turn to look at him. “You’re going to see him, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and neither of them wanted to hear the answer spoken out loud.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Sammy. Hell, I don’t even understand it myself, but I have to see him.” Dean took a step to leave, but Sam grabbed his shoulder and roughly forced him to turn and look him in the face.

“No, you don’t, Dean.” Sam said as though Dean were a small child.

“Yes, I do, Sam!”

“No you don’t!” Sam exploded in a fit of rage. “I can’t let you give yourself to him! You’re our Prince, our inspiration, our last hope of getting out of here!” Tears gathered in the corners of Sam’s eyes, but Dean couldn’t let Castiel think he was dead.

“I’m so sorry, Sam.” Dean whispered, then made his way out of the camp on still unsteady legs. Sam was left behind in the center of the camp.

“I thought I knew you, Dean but I never understood. I don’t know you at all.” Sam brushed away the few tears that had escaped and turned his back on Dean.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t care about the gods, Dean! Not when they’re keeping me from you. You’re all I want, I don’t care about anything else but you. Sometimes I…I just wish I had never met you, that I had never fallen in love with you, and that you had never loved me back. I feel like…maybe then this would all be easier.”

Castiel stared at the setting sun just across the Nile. His eyes, much to his confusion, were dry. It hadn’t sunken in, not yet. There was almost a part of him that refused to believe that Dean… But Michael had been so triumphant when he said that his soldiers had killed him in front of the entire Nubian camp. Castiel couldn’t doubt the truth of his words. He took in a steady breath, held it until his lungs burned and released it in a rush of air.

Footsteps sounded behind Castiel, but he didn’t turn to see who they belonged to. Castiel waited for the owner of the footsteps to say something, or to move into Castiel’s line of vision, but they did neither. Irritated, Castiel spun around to confront the intruder, only to come face to face with—

“ _Dean._ ” Castiel pulled the man into his arms and tucked his face into the side of Dean’s neck. His shoulders shook with quiet sobs, hands clenched in the fabric of Dean’s tunic. Dean stroked his hands up and down Castiel’s back and managed to stay calm, even though his eyes were wet. When Castiel had calmed down enough to speak, he pulled back to look Dean in the eye. “I thought you were—“

“They came for me, but Adam sacrificed himself. I blame myself. If I had only—“ Dean broke Castiel’s gaze, but Castiel cupped his face and forced him to meet his eyes once more.

“No, Dean, I’m responsible for this. I’m the one who put you in danger. But, I promise that it will never happen again. I’m going to call off the wedding, and we’ll leave Egypt, just the two of us. I’ll build you a house on an island at the border or our two countries and we’ll spend the rest of our lives sailing the Nile.” Castiel insisted. Dean gave him a small smile.

“Cas…” Dean leaned his forehead against Castiel’s, then yanked back. If the wedding was called off, his father would have no chance to escape. “No, you can’t! You can’t call off the wedding.”

“Yes I can, and I will, Dean.” Castiel’s tiny smile had dissolved into a confused frown.

“I love you more than anything, Cas. But you have to marry Anna tomorrow. _Tomorrow_. What you’re planning for us is impossible. The Egyptians would hunt us down. I appreciate this more than I can say, Cas, but it wouldn’t work.” Dean closed his eyes, unable to hold Castiel’s gaze.

“I’m going to find a way for us to be together, Dean. I might need a little more time, but I promise I will find a way.” Dean pressed a chaste kiss to Castiel’s lips.

“That’s why I’m here, Cas. There is no more time. I can’t ever see you again, once you and Anna are married.” Castiel started to protest, but Dean cut him off. “I can’t, Cas. I won’t be able to watch the two of you together, I think it would be what would finally kill me, after all this. Just, do me a favor, okay?” Castiel nodded. “Don’t forget me.” Dean turned to leave, but Castiel grabbed his hand.

“I could never forget you, Dean. I will think of you every moment from now until I die.” Castiel shook his head and let out a cynical laugh. “Is it written in the stars that we’re just not meant to be together? Or maybe some God has decided to use us in his experiment, in which we’re given paradise, but only for a day.”

“Cas, I need you to marry Anna. You can help my people. This might be our only chance to do something important. Don’t you see? This could be the whole reason we met.” Dean took Castiel’s other hand in his.

“That would be a cruel trick, wouldn’t you think?” Castiel muttered.

“Not if the Gods brought us together for something bigger. There’s no escape from this now, Cas. There’s nowhere we can go that would hide us from the Gods.” Castiel’s head snapped up, glistening eyes locked with Dean’s.

“I don’t care about the gods, Dean! Not when they’re keeping me from you. You’re all I want, I don’t care about anything else but you. Sometimes I…I just wish I had never met you, that I had never fallen in love with you, and that you had never loved me back. I feel like…maybe then this would all be easier.”

Dean pulled Castiel into his arms again and the two men clung to each other like a lifeline. They stayed that way for a long time, then Castiel pulled back and kissed Dean.

“I’ll do what you want me to, Dean, but you have to do something for me in return.” Dean nodded his agreement. “Go home, Dean. Get out of Egypt and never come back.” Dean reeled back like he had been slapped.

“What are you saying?”

“When Anna and I are taking our vows, there will be a boat waiting for you at the docks that will take you back to Nubia. I’ll be able to take a little comfort if I can know that you’ll be safe.” Dean surged forward and kissed him. It wasn’t comforting or joyful like before. This time it was full of pain and heartbreak. It felt like goodbye.

Dean pulled away first and pressed his forehead to Castiel’s before he turned his back and hurried away. Castiel watched him leave for a few seconds, before he, too, began to make his way back to the palace to arrange for a boat to take Dean away.

Neither of them knew, nor saw, the silent figure that watched them from the shadows and saw everything. Anna stepped out into the harsh moonlight as soon as both men were out of view. She didn’t let the gathering tears fall. She had more grace than that. Anna had been raised since birth to be powerful and strong. She was not about to let one man ruin everything she had worked so hard for. She took a few moments to decide how she would deal with Castiel and started back for the palace, shoulders squared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, now Anna knows about their little secret! How do you think the wedding will go? I'm interested to hear predictions. C:


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She found as she stood at the altar beside Castiel, her hand on top of his, that she couldn’t look at him. She knew that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to contain her grief. If she had been able to spare a glance at Castiel, she would have seen the same enforced blankness on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding is here as well as the Nubian King's escape. The very end of this chapter contains violence and major character death, although I think you'll find it more familiar than you're expecting. There's one full chapter after this, and then the epilogue!

The day of Anael and Castiel’s wedding had arrived and chaos reigned in Anael’s chambers. Handmaidens rushed back and forth with assorted jewels and finery for Anael to choose from. Anael sat in the middle of the room, staring off at nothing, only half tuned in to what was going on around her. She stood up when she was asked to, slipped the dress on, and allowed her handmaidens to fuss over her hair and make up without comment.

Her mind, however, raced with thoughts and arguments. How had she been so blind that she hadn’t seen the relationship between her _betrothed_ and her best friend? This day was supposed to be her finest moment. Egypt would look at her and finally see the woman that would one day become Pharaoh. Now she had been crushed, struck down before she even had the chance to begin.

The worst part of it all was that she still loved Castiel. She knew there was nothing left between them, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him or Dean. She loved both of them too much, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make herself hate them and it killed her inside.

“Princess,” Rachel tapped her hand. “Is everything all right? You seem…distracted.” Anael gave Rachel a tired smile.

“I’m fine, thank you Rachel. I’m just thinking about the wedding, that’s all.” Rachel nodded and returned to her work. When they were done, they brought a long mirror in front of her.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Princess.” Hester gushed. Anael thanked her, then allowed herself to be led out of her chambers and into the temple. Castiel, Michael, her father, and many of the noble men and women of Egypt stared at her as she walked down the aisle.

She found as she stood at the altar beside Castiel, her hand on top of his, that she couldn’t look at him. She knew that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to contain her grief. If she had been able to spare a glance at Castiel, she would have seen the same enforced blankness on his face.

The Pharaoh looked dead on his feet. He took a few shaky steps towards Anael and Castiel. He dragged his arms into the air and hovered his hands over their heads. “As witnessed by the Gods and all Egypt, I now pronounce you man and wife. May your lives be filled forever with the joy of this moment.” This seemed to exhaust whatever strength he had left, and he collapsed back onto his throne.

Castiel turned to Anael and took her hand and was about to lead her out of the temple when one of the prison guards ran in, breathless. “Your majesty, the Nubian King has escaped!”

“Castiel, call your men to arms.” The Pharaoh ordered.

“Fan out across the city! Don’t let him get past the border!” Castiel called out to his soldiers. Michael took a step forward.

“The fastest way to Nubia is by water. Send a regiment to search the docks. That’s where he will have gone.” Michael insisted.

“No!” Castiel shouted after the small group of soldiers that had started to follow Michael’s order. “Seal off the docks.”

“But, Castiel—“ Michael began.

“No one can reach the pier before I get there. Understood?” The soldiers nodded their assent then rushed off to search for the King. Castiel ran out the door after them.

\---OoO---

Sam paced at the end of the docks, while John sat down at the base of the wooden pier with a cloak thrown over him to disguise his face. Just when Sam began to fear that Dean had deserted them for Castiel, he raced up to them, eyes wild.

“Dean! We need to hurry. They’ve sounded the alarm.” John checked the perimeter, then headed up the pier towards the barge. Dean was about to follow him, when Castiel hurried up to the docks. Dean took a step towards Castiel, but John caught him by the wrist.

“Dean, we have to go now!” John hissed.

“I’m sorry, Dad, but I need to say goodbye.” Dean tried to pull his arm away but John’s grip tightened viciously.

“If I let you go now, then you won’t come back. I know you, Dean. You don’t have the strength to stay away from that monster.” Dean had heard enough and tore his wrist out of John’s grasp. He ran to Castiel and ignored John’s shout of his name after him. Dean launched himself at Castiel and threw his arms around his neck.

“Gods, Cas, I thought I’d never see you again.” Dean breathed into Castiel’s neck, then noticed that Castiel was stiff, arms at his sides. He stood there, motionless, hands balled into fists. Dean pulled back. “Cas?”

“I should have guessed.” He whispered. “You’re the Nubian prince. You had me marry Anael just so that your King could escape! Everything you’ve told me has been a lie. Every word. Every _kiss_.” Castiel spat.

“That’s not true! But I’ve screwed up too much, and too many people have suffered and _died_ because of my choices! I can’t afford to be selfish right now, Cas.” Dean pleaded. He reached for Castiel’s hand, which he yanked away.

“So you lied to me?” Castiel accused.

“Not when I said I love you.” Castiel stopped at that. “Please say you believe me.” Someone gasped behind them and Castiel pulled Dean out of their reach and shielded him with his body. Michael and a small squadron of soldiers stood at the entrance to the docks.

“He’s still alive?” Michael screeched. “You told me you finished him off, you imbeciles! Never mind. Deal with him now. I’ll get the King.” Two soldiers stepped forward, blades drawn, but Sam stepped in front of them with a blade of his own.

“Stop right there!” He ordered. The soldiers laughed and made to push him out of the way, but Sam was faster. He twisted behind one of them, shoved his sword through the young man’s stomach and let the soldier’s body drop to the ground. The older soldier snarled with rage and rushed at Sam.

“Dean, come here!” John yelled from the barge. Castiel shoved him towards the pier.

“Go now, Dean! This is your only chance.” Dean shook his head and moved back towards the two men.

“I’m not leaving without Sammy!” None of them noticed Michael pull his sword and stride up behind Sam, who had just dispatched the other soldier. Dean noticed Michael when he was mere feet away from Sam. “Sammy, look out!”

Just as Sam turned to look at Dean, Michael grabbed him by the shoulder, and shoved his blade into the base of his spine. Sam’s back arched and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. “No!” Dean ran to catch his little brother in his arms as Michael pulled his blade out. His legs gave out under him and he sank to his knees. Dean slid to the ground and wrapped both of his arms around him to catch him as he fell against his chest.

“Castiel, for the love of Egypt, stop them!” Michael shouted. Castiel walked over to the barge, shoved John the rest of the way onto it, and cut the rope. The barge set off down the Nile, with John its only passenger. “What in Osiris’ name have you done?”

“It’s all over, Father. When they come for me—and they will come for me—they’ll take you too.” Castiel stated.

“That can’t happen. Egypt needs me!” Michael raged.

“You’re the one that tied our fates together. Like father, like son. If I were you, I’d start running now.” Castiel gave him an empty smile as Michael turned tail and fled.

“Cas! Cas, he’s…” Dean’s voice choked off. Castiel hurried to his side and helped hold Sam up.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I wasn’t able to get you out of here.” Sam strained, body tense as he tried to stay conscious. “And Cas, I’m sorry I wasn’t loyal. You did so much for me, and I…” Sam trailed off and Dean shook him. “ _Dean_.” Sam breathed. “I feel like I’ve failed you more than anyone else.”

“Never! Sammy, you…you inspired me.” Dean managed to get around the massive lump in his throat.

“All I wanted was to get back to Nubia. Dean, take me home.” Sam’s eyes flickered shut. Dean pressed his hand against the wound in Sam’s back.

“Hey, come on, Sammy. It’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam!” Dean shook him. Sam’s eyes opened for a second before they closed again. “Hey, listen to me. I’m gonna make sure you get some help. We’ll make you good as new, won’t we, Cas? C’mon man, you can’t leave now. Not when I just found you again. I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. I’ve got you, Sammy. That’s my job, right? Take care of my pain in the ass little brother?” Dean cupped Sam’s face as his head lolled forward. “Sam? Sam! _Sam! Sammy!_ ” Dean choked back a sob as Sam’s body went limp and slumped against his chest. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh gods.” Dean clutched at Sam’s back as he rocked him back and forth. “ _SAM!”_ Dean screamed. Tears fell from his face to Sam’s body, cradled in his arms.

Then, he was being pulled, torn away from Sam. He thrashed and kicked and shouted until his throat was raw as the Pharaoh’s soldiers dragged him back to the palace. Dean stopped when he realized it was pointless, but started again when he saw a soldier grab Sam’s ankle and drag his body behind them.

One of the soldiers tied a black strip of cloth around his eyes and shackled his hands. Dean was led the rest of the way back to the palace with the knowledge that his brother was dead, and that he and Castiel were most likely next.


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t do that, Anna. Dean is everything I thought I was meant to be. His courage and love for his people have put me to shame. Everything I’ve ever done in my life has been wrong, except for this.” Castiel told her. Anael saw the determination in his eyes, and she knew that his mind was made up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, yet again, contains major character death. Unlike the others, however, this one is peaceful and violence free. After this, there's just the epilogue and then we're done!

Anael watched beside her father’s throne as Castiel and Dean were dragged into the throne room and tossed aside. Dean looked hysterical. He went from screaming and lashing out at the guards to weeping in a matter of seconds. Anael took a step towards him, then saw him take a swing at one of the guards and lay him flat, so she decided to go to Castiel first.

When he finally noticed her, he hid his face. “Come now, Castiel. Don’t try to hide from me now. This may be all we have left.” She scolded. He looked up at her and his eyes were full of resigned acceptance.

“Anna, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” Anael opened her mouth to reply, but was silenced by her father’s arrival. She pulled Castiel to his feet and sent the guards around him away with a flick of her hand.

“Cas, there’s a chance that my father will spare your life, but only if you deny everything.” Castiel let out a sardonic laugh. “Listen to me! They want to bury you alive, Cas.”

“Of course they do. That’s what we do to traitors.” Anael flinched.

“That doesn’t matter right now, Cas. You need to say that everyone is wrong, and that—“

“I can’t do that, Anna. Dean is everything I thought I was meant to be. His courage and love for his people have put me to shame. Everything I’ve ever done in my life has been wrong, except for this.” Castiel told her. Anael saw the determination in his eyes, and she knew that his mind was made up. There was one last thing she had to know before she lost him forever.

“Did you ever love me at all?” A sad smile crossed his features and he cupped her face.

“Oh, Anna. I’ve loved you all my life.” Anael blinked away tears, nodded and left him alone. As she turned, she saw one of the guards shove Dean onto his knees and grab his hair to slam his head onto the floor. She crossed the room in three large strides.

“Take your hands off of him!” She commanded. The guard stepped away and bowed to her. Dean up at her in desperate confusion as she took his hands and helped him to his feet. “He is a Prince, after all.” This seemed to shatter Dean, and he clutched at her hands so hard that she thought he might break her fingers.

“Anna, there were so many times that I wanted to tell you everything, but I couldn’t. Your father would have killed me.” Anael smiled at him, kind but tired.

“No wonder you understood me so well.” Dean grew serious.

“Anna, you have to believe me. I’m responsible for everything that’s happened, not Cas. Please, let him live.” Anael started to turn away, but Dean wouldn’t release her hands. “Anna, let him live!”

“I can’t.” Anael used all her strength to remain calm.

“Yes, you can! You love him!” Dean was frantic now. “Don’t you love him?” Anael studied Dean for several moments before she gave her answer.

“I love you both.” This took the wind out of Dean’s sails and he sagged on his feet. A guard dragged him before the throne next to Castiel. Both men were forced to their knees and made to bow their heads.

“Let us begin.” The Pharaoh wheezed. “Michael has been apprehended, his plot uncovered, and his punishment dealt. Now to the both of you. Castiel, I chose you to be my daughter’s husband, and one day, my successor. I trusted your father. Now, I will make things right while I still can.” The Pharaoh hauled himself up out of his throne and stood tall in front of the people assembled. “The criminals will receive their sentences.”

“Father,” Anael cut in. The Pharaoh turned his head to look at her. “I have a request.” He waved her forward. “I know that the…the traitors must die for their crimes against Egypt. This is the law. But I would ask that… you allow the prisoners to die together.” Dean and Castiel’s heads snapped up to stare at her in shock.

“Together? But that would be mercy—after they disgraced you before the entire nation!” The Pharaoh countered.

“I was the one wronged. It should be my decision.” The Pharaoh huffed a sigh and turned away from Anael.

“You’re upset, Anael. You don’t know your own mind. For their crimes, the traitors—“ Anael stood up to face her father head on.

“Your majesty, you have poison in your blood! We both know this. Soon, I will be completely alone because everyone that I love in this world will be gone.” She took a second to look at Dean, then at Castiel, who both seemed crushed by her words, and then back at her father. “So you must allow me to exercise my will over Egypt because I am to be your successor...” She took a deep breath, gathered the last of her courage, and continued. “And because I demand it.”

The Pharaoh studied her for an eternity, then nodded at Anael and sank back into his chair. Anael turned to address the crowd.

“For their crimes, the traitors will be buried beneath the sands of Egypt in one tomb, together. The Daughter of Isis has spoken.” Unable to watch, she ran out of the room and into her chambers where she finally let herself fall apart.

\---OoO---

Though they were to be executed together, the guards locked them in separate cells while the tomb was prepared. Dean tried to remember all of the prayers and rituals his people went through when they knew they were going to die, but he couldn’t find them. He heard quiet sniffling from the next cell over and turned to face the source of the sound.

“Cas?” He whispered. The sniffling stopped and a quiet, “Dean?” echoed through the dank air. Dean heaved a sigh of relief and crawled over to the bars. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Dean reached his hand through the bars. Castiel grabbed onto it and held tight like Dean was the only thing left to keep him sane. It was too dark to see anything, but if he strained his eyes, he could just make out Castiel’s shape through the bars.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. All this is my fault. If I had only—“ Dean squeezed his hand.

“Hey, hey, don’t you start with that right now. None of this is any one person’s fault. Sure, you played a part in it, but so did I, and so did Anna, and your father, and Sam—“ He stopped. “But I need you to know, no matter what, I wouldn’t have traded any of it for the world.”

“Truly?” Castiel sounded incredulous. “I’ve brought you nothing but trouble. I stole you from your home, your family, forced you into servitude, got your brother killed—“

“You can’t blame yourself, Cas. Yeah, that stuff you did sucks, and I’m not saying that what you did was right, by any means, but you fixed it. You helped me find my brother, you helped my dad get free when you could have recaptured him, you gave yourself up to stay with me. And I’m going to be with Sammy again soon, so I think I’m at peace with the rest of it.” Castiel pressed his forehead against Dean’s hand and Dean could feel tears wet his skin.

“I get what I want, Cas. I get to be with you for the rest of my life. That’s all that matters anymore.” Dean whispered. Within seconds, they were blinded and Castiel’s hand was torn out of his. Someone grabbed Dean from behind and manhandled him out of the prison and into the burning midday sun. In the distance, Dean could just make out the shape of a tomb resting inside a large pit. When they reached it, they threw him down the stone steps and landed hard at the bottom beside Castiel. He heard the sound of stone scraping against stone as the lid was pulled shut, and they were plunged into absolute darkness.

“Cas?” Dean fumbled around until Castiel reached up and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I’m here, Dean.” Dean relaxed in his arms and buried his face in Castiel’s hair. “I’m right here with you. There’s another world out there waiting for us, Dean. I can feel it. The same way I could feel that there was a world waiting for me beyond every bend in the Nile, just waiting to be discovered.”

“And you’ll find me in that world?” Dean’s voice quivered and Castiel stroked his hands down Dean’s back.

“I promise. Even if I have to search through a hundred lifetimes, I promise that I _will_ find you again, Dean. Just imagine being able to live without any ties of race or duty to keep us away from each other.”

“And there wouldn’t be a horizon that we couldn’t chase after.” Dean smiled against Castiel’s ear.

“We could leave the misfortunes of this life far behind us.” Castiel’s breath began to sound labored.

“And I’d put my faith in you this time around.” Dean swore. Castiel pulled back and found Dean’s lips. He pressed one last kiss to them before he let his head rest against Dean’s shoulder. His breath came in gasps now against Dean’s shallow breaths that had slowed to a full stop.

“Dean?” Castiel whispered, but there was no reply. “Dean, wake up. Dean…” Still no reply was offered, so Castiel closed his eyes and let the darkness sweep his thoughts away.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gathered his scattered wits and reasoned that, even if he were to find Castiel right that second, he wouldn’t be awake. Hell, he wouldn’t expect a call from a random stranger he didn’t remember. He trudged back to his room, flopped onto his bed, and tried to get back to sleep. Unfortunately, after getting back an entire life’s worth of memories, sleep seemed impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! I can't express enough how much you guys reading this means to me. This work is dedicated to my friends, Hope, Desi, Lisa, Liz, Morgan, and Jonathan. I hope you enjoy the final chapter of this work, and thank you all so so so so much for reading!!!

Dean sat bolt upright in his bed, covered from head to toe in a cold sweat. The first thought in his mind was Sam. He tried to get out of bed, but his legs got tangled in the sheets and he fell hard to the floor, before he untangled himself and rushed to the phone. His heart raced a mile a minute while it rang, urgent to make sure that Sam was still—

“What do you want, Dean?” Sam’s sleepy voice crackled over the line. Dean’s breath left his lungs in a rush.

“Sammy, thank God.” Dean hated how his voice shook, but he would deal with the embarrassment later. For now, he was just thankful that Sam was all right.

“Dean, is everything okay over there? It’s three in the morning.” Dean laughed, he couldn’t help it, he was just so relieved that Sam was alive and not dead somewhere in the Egyptian desert. “Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy, I’m fine. I just wanted to check in on you.” Dean replied, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“At three in the morning? All right, Dean. When I’m awake, and it’s a _normal hour_ , we’re going to have a conversation about when it’s okay to ‘check in on me’ and when it’s not.”

“Great, that’d be great, Sammy.” Dean agreed. Sam huffed.

“Cool. I’m gonna go back to sleep now. Good night, Dean.”

“G’night, Sammy.” Dean whispered and waited for the line to go dead before he hung up. But if Sam was in the dream, then that meant… _Cas_.

Oh, God, that guy at the museum. No wonder he had been so familiar! It had been _Cas_. Dean staggered over to his kitchen table and sank into one of the chairs.

“I have to find him.” Dean ran to the cabinet under the phone and tore it apart to look for a recent phone book. He punched the counter when he was unable to find one and regretted it when his hand started to ache.

Dean gathered his scattered wits and reasoned that, even if he were to find Castiel right that second, he wouldn’t be awake. Hell, he wouldn’t expect a call from a random stranger he didn’t remember. He trudged back to his room, flopped onto his bed, and tried to get back to sleep. Unfortunately, after getting back an entire life’s worth of memories, sleep seemed impossible.

Just past six in the morning, when the sun began to peek over the edge of the sky, Dean opened up his laptop and pulled up the webpage for the museum. Luckily for Dean and his restless spirit, the museum opened at nine that morning. Dean, ever the dreamer, hoped that Castiel would be at the museum again today and Dean would run into him.

Dean was the first one through the doors that morning, and he headed straight for the Ancient Egypt exhibit. Upon entering the exhibit, his eyes were drawn to the statue of the Pharaoh Anael. He compared his memories of her with the beautiful, strong Pharaoh that she had become after his…death. God, would that ever become normal?

Dean caressed her information plaque and flashed the statue a proud smile before he moved on to the exhibit. The two men in the slave camp he had seen before he now recognized as Adam and Bobby. Damn, there were so many people he had to find. If he had found his way here, then they must have too.

Before long, Dean found himself drawn back to the tomb. Now that he had his memories back, it shocked him that he hadn’t recognized it before. It wasn’t just an exact replica, or someone else’s tomb that happened to look the same. Dean knew the instant he saw it. This was his and Castiel’s tomb. He reached out to touch it, but a guard cleared his throat in warning and stopped him.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. The guard shook his head and returned to his previous nonchalant observance. Dean turned away to sit on one of the benches on the other side of the exhibit to wait and see if Castiel would show up. He waited for hours. He left for a few minutes to grab lunch at the tiny McDonalds in the lobby, then returned to the bench. His eyes searched the crowd nonstop for a glimpse of dark hair or crazy blue eyes.

A gentle hand tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry sir, but you’re going to have to leave. The museum is closing in just a few minutes.” The guard gestured toward the windows, which filtered in the red-orange light of sunset.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll be on my way then.” Dean told the guard, dejected that Castiel hadn’t shown up. Dean was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the female guard’s flaming red hair or limpid blue eyes. The guards were just about to lock up as Dean went out the doors, shoulders slumped and eyes fixed on his shoes.

Of course Castiel hadn’t come. He probably had no clue who Dean was, apart from that random guy he bumped into at the museum the day before. It was stupid of Dean to believe that he and Castiel had shared some kind of bond. Just because Dean had his memories back didn’t mean that Castiel would have his back too. Dean was halfway down the steps when someone shoved past him and sent Dean tumbling down steps and onto his ass.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, buddy!” The man froze, but didn’t turn around. Dean didn’t pay much attention to him as he checked to see if he had hurt himself in the fall. “I don’t know why you’re in such a rush. The museum just closed. Sorry buddy, you’re gonna have to come back tomorrow.”

The man turned around to look at Dean, his face the picture of shock and awe, and Dean was hit with just how _blue_ the man’s eyes were. Dean took in every single aspect of the man’s features. The broad lines of his chest and arms, his hair that looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his tanned skin, the perfect bow of his lips.

“Cas?” Dean asked, afraid to hope. The man’s shoulders seemed to sag with relief.

“ _Dean._ ” The word fell from the man’s lips—no, _Castiel’s_ lips—and it was the best thing Dean had heard in years. In seconds, Dean had climbed the steps and all but launched himself at Castiel’s lips. He seemed to be on board, and met Dean with just as much urgency. When they broke apart, Dean pulled Castiel into his arms and buried his face against the older man’s neck.

“Cas. _Castiel._ ” Dean voice quivered with tears. Castiel just pulled him closer and placed gentle kisses on the crown of his head.

“I found you.” Castiel whispered into Dean’s ear, and Dean moved back to grin at him.

“Took you long enough.”

 


End file.
